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IS MR. DALTON IN?” JOYCE ASKED EMBARRASSEDLY. Page 27, 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENTS 


BY y 

FANNIE E. NEWBERRY 

Author of “ All Aboard “ Bubbles Etc. 


“ Women have the genius of charity. A man gives 
but his gold ; woman adds to it her sympathy.” 

Ernest Wilfrid LegouviL 



BOSTON 

A. I. BRADLEY & CO. 

1899 

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JUL 27 1900 


Copyright, 1899, 

By A. I. BRADLEY & CO. 



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CONTENTS 


CHAP. PAGE 

I. Legal Advice 5 

II. Old Friends 14 

III. Joyce’s Interests 22 

IV. The Works and Workmen 32 

V. Among the Cottages 39 

VI. Fresh Glimpses 50 

VII. The Hapgoods and Nate 62 

VIII. Littleton Reviewed 73 

IX. Dan 86 

X. At the Bonnivels’ 97 

XI. The Social House in 

XII. The House-Warming 125 

XIII. Some Encounters 136 

XIV. Joyce and Her Manager 145 

XV. Mother Flaherty’s Telephone 155 

XVI. On a Trail 167 

XVII. Dodo 180 

XVIII. Nate Tierney 189 

XIX. In the Cage 200 

XX. Sorrow 205 

XXI. In the Lock-up 217 

XXII. A Visit to Lozcoski 222 

XXIII. Waiting for the Train 233 

XXIV. Night Watchers 244 

XXV. Camille Speaks Out 255 

XXVI. Not Welcome 268 

XXVII. Night Happenings 278 

XXVIII. Visiting the Shut-ins 288 

XXIX. A Dream Ended 294 

XXX. A Railroad Wedding 301 






























JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 


CHAPTER I. 

LEGAL ADVICE. 

The old lawyer caressed his smoothly shaven chin 
and gazed out at Joyce Lavillotte from under his 
shaggy eyebrows, as from the port-holes of a castle, 
impressing her as being quite as inscrutable of aspect 
and almost as belligerent. She, flushed and bright- 
eyed, leaned forward with an appealing air, opposing 
the resistless vigor of youth to the impassiveness of 
age. 

“ It is not the crazy scheme you think it, Mr. 
Barrington," she said in that liquid voice which was 
an inheritance from her creole ancestry, “and I do 
not mean to risk my last dollar. You know I have 
means that cannot be touched. Why should you be 
so sure I cannot manage the Works — especially when 
Mr. Dalton is so capable and ” 

The lawyer uttered something between a grunt 
and a laugh. 

“ It’s Mr. Dalton who will manage it all. What 
do you know of the Works? ’’ 


5 


6 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ No, he will not, Mr. Barrington. The factory, 
of course, is his province, but the village shall be 
mine. You think, because I am not yet twenty-two, 
that I do not know my own mind, but you forget 
how long I have been motherless ; and a girl has to 
think for herself when her mother goes.” 

“ But your father ? ” 

“ You knew my father.” The tremble in the young 
voice hardened into a haughty note, and she drew 
back coldly. 

Mr. Barrington heaved a perplexed sigh. 

“ I know I ought to oppose you to the death, 
even ! You’ll never have such another chance to 
sell out, and the sum safely invested in bonds and 
mortgages, would keep you like a princess.” 

“ I don’t want to be kept like a princess. I don’t 
choose to make use of that money for myself, Mr. 
Barrington — I can’t. There is enough of my 
mother’s for my few needs. I was brought up sim- 
ply, and I am glad ! If I sell the works, as you 
desire, I shall still give the proceeds away. Had you 
rather I built a hospital, or founded a girl’s college, 
or set up a mission to the South Pole ? I’d rather 
build a town on rational principles.” 

The haughtiness had melted now, and the smile 
with which she ended was hard to resist. A younger 
man would have yielded sooner, but Mr. Barrington 
was a sharp, practical financier, and furthermore, he 
had what he believed to be the best good of his 
client at heart. She was of age and, under the con- 
ditions of her late father’s will, absolute mistress of a 


LEGAL ADVICE. 


7 


great fortune. It was aggravating to find she had no 
intention of sitting down to enjoy this in a comfort- 
able, lady-like manner, but must at once begin to 
develope schemes and plans which seemed half insane 
to him. Why should this new generation of women 
be so streaked with quirks and oddities, so knobby 
with ideas, when they might be just as helpless and 
charming as those of his own day, and give them- 
selves blindly to the guidance of astute men like him- 
self? It was maddening to contemplate. Here was 
one who could be clothed in purple and fine linen 
and fare sumptuously every day, without so much as 
lifting her little white finger, and she was planning 
an infinity of care and worriment, possibly the loss 
of everything, rather than a calm acceptance of her 
rosy fortune. It fairly disgusted him ! 

His vis-a-vis, watching him with her keen dark 
eyes, read these thoughts as if his brain had been a 
printed page before her, and in spite of herself 
laughed outright in his very teeth — a merry little peal 
as spontaneous as a sunburst. 

“ Pardon me ! ” she begged, trying vainly to con- 
trol herself, “but you did look so hopeless, Mr. 
Barrington. I know I’m a nuisance to you, and I 
appreciate that this solicitude for my interests is more 
than I’ve any right to expect when I disappoint you 
so. If you were not so old a friend I wouldn’t feel 
so guilty. Yet in spite of all — I am resolved.” 

She said the last three words quite gently, with a 
level gaze that met his own frowning one and held 
it. She did not nod nor bridle, and her air was al- 


8 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 


most deprecating in its modesty, but he felt the bat- 
tle was over and she was the victor. She would be 
her own mistress, girl that she was, and he could not 
turn her. He leaned back in a relaxed attitude and 
asked in a changed voice, “ Will you then care to 
retain the services of Barrington and Woodstock? ” 

There was not a hint of triumph in tone or manner 
as she answered quickly, 

“ Most certainly, if I may. There will be a con- 
stant need of your advice, I know. And now, Mr. 
Barrington, shall we settle the matter of salary, or 
do you prefer to make a separate charge for each 
occasion ? ” 

His smile was rather grim as he arose and took 
down a bundle of papers and documents, slipped 
them rapidly from hand to hand, then laid them in 
order before him. 

“ I think the salary might be best for you,” he 
answered. 

“ So do I,” blithely, “ for I shall probably bore 
you to death ! ” 

This matter having been satisfactorily adjusted, 
the lawyer, with a rather ironical air, observed, 

“ If I am not trenching upon forbidden ground, 
might I ask a few more questions concerning this 
scheme of yours ? ” 

“ As many as you like, sir.” 

“ Thank you. I take it for granted you will re- 
tain Mr. Dalton as manager ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And most of the employees as at present ? ” 


LEGAL ADVICE. 


9 


“ All, for aught I know.” 

“ And you speak of building up a town — just what 
does that mean to your own mind?” 

“ I’ll try to tell you. You know at present there 
are only the buildings for the Works, the branch 
track and engine sheds, and the few rows of undom- 
fortable cottages for the families of the men. There 
is no school, no church, no library, no meeting-place 
of any kind, except the grocery store and saloon ; 
and those bare, staring rows of mean houses, just 
alike, are not homes in any sense of the word. I 
want to add all such comforts — no, I call them neces- 
sities — and more.” 

“ More ? As what, for instance ? ” 

“ Well ,” — she drew a long breath and settled back 
in her chair with a nestling movement that made the 
hard man of business feel a certain fatherly yearning 
towards her, and at last said slowly, “ I can’t quite 
explain to you how I have been led to it, but this 
thought has become very plain to me — that every 
real need of humanity must (if this world be the 
work of a perfect Being) have its certain fulfilment. 
Most people think the fulfilment should only be 
looked for in another and better world. I think it 
might, and ought, to come often in this, and that we 
alone are to blame that it does not.” 

“Wait! Let me more fully understand. You 
think every need — what kind of needs ? ” 

“All kinds. Needs of body, mind, and soul.” 

“ You think they can be fully gratified here ? ” 

“ I think they might be. I believe there is no 


IO JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

reason, except our own ignorance, stupidity, preju- 
dice, and greed, that keeps them from being gratified 
here and now.” 

“ But child — that would be Heaven ! ” 

“ Very like it — yes. And why shouldn’t we have 
Heaven here, sir? God made this world and pro- 
nounced it good. Would the Perfect One make a 
broken circle, a chain with missing links, a desire 
without its gratification ? That would be incom- 
plete workmanship. When either my body or my 
soul calls out for anything whatsoever, somewhere 
there is that thing awaiting the desire. Why rele- 
gate it to another world ? There must be complete 
circles here, or this world is not good.” 

“ But, my dear girl, these are rather abstruse ques- 
tions for your little head.” 

“ I did not think them out, Mr. Barrington. They 
grew out of — circumstances — and some one a good 
deal wiser than I made me understand them. But 
they grew to stay, and I can’t get rid of them. That 
is one of the thoughts, ideas — what you will, and 
this is the other. A man can do little alone, but 
men can do anything working together in perfect 
sympathy.” 

“ Oh, co-operation — yes ! ” 

“ Co-operation, as you say. With perfect co-opera- 
tion and a perfect communication, so that each need 
may be answered readily— these are the ideas I wish 
to work out.” 

“ Work out— how ? ” 

“ In my village,” 


LEGAL ADVICE. 


II 


He frowned at her in puzzled petulance 
“ I don’t understand a word.” 

“ And it’s almost impossible to make one under- 
stand, sir. Just wait and watch the working of my 
plan. Mr. Barrington, have you ever had a surplus 
of anything that you would gladly share with an- 
other, if you knew exactly where it was most 
needed ? ” 

“Yes,” smiling suddenly, and glancing into a cor- 
ner where was a heaped-up, disorderly looking sCt of 
shelves from which the books had overflowed upon 
the floor. “ I was thinking, the other day, that if I 
knew just the right young lawyer I would be glad 
to give him some of those Reports.” 

“ That’s it ! That’s what I mean. Somewhere, 
some struggling lawyer is longing for books and can- 
not get them ; you have too many and are longing 
to be rid of them. There are the two halves of a 
complete whole; don’t you see? ” 

“ Certainly — if they could be brought together.” 

“ Well, I want to try and bring them together.” 
“In your village? But how? Do you imagine 
you can play Providence to a whole settlement, and 
complete all its half circles ? ” 

“ No, sir, I’ve no thought of that. I simply want 
to make it possible for them to play Providence to 
each other. But it would take all day to tell you just 
how. You have a clue now, and suppose you watch 
me work it out. I shall probably come to you often for 
advice, and I must not take up more of your time 
to-day.” 


12 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

She arose, with a brisk movement, and began 
fastening her fur collar, in spite of his detaining 
gesture. 

“ No, no,” she laughed, “ don’t tempt me ! When 
I mount my hobby it carries me fast and far. Save 
yourself from its heels. But I will come again.” 

He laughed with a hearty note. 

“You know when to dismount, evidently, and 
just in time to whet one’s curiosity, too. I may be 
asking to ride it myself, next. Well, do come 
again — but wait ! What’s the name of your new 
town ? ” 

“ I’ve been puzzling over that, Mr. Barrington. I 
wanted in some way to have my family name 
connected with it, and yet not so distinctly as to be 
suggestive, either. There is the English of it — of 
course it’s a free translation — that might do. I don’t 
care to hint at my ideas in the name, so perhaps ” 

“ Lavillotte?” he questioned. What is the Eng- 
lish of it.” 

“ ‘ The little town,’ but Littletown ” 

“ Why not drop the w ? ” 

“And make it Littleton? Well, why not? I 
rather like that ! It seems impersonal ; it explains 
nothing.” 

“ Except its smallness,” laughed the lawyer, “ and 
that would be apparent anyhow, I suppose.” 

She laughed with him. 

“ I’m afraid so. Yes, I believe it will do. Little- 
ton ! It really suits me.” 

“There! Didn’t I tell you? I’ve named your 


LEGAL ADVICE. 


13 


model town already ; I shall be galloping side by 
side with you before you know it. Off with you 
now, hobby and all ! ” 

But she passed out smiling and satisfied. When 
Mr. Barrington took that tone she knew he was the 
old friend again, and not the legal adviser ; and 
much as she respected the lawyer, she far preferred 
the friend, to-day. 


CHAPTER II. 


OLD FRIENDS. 

MISS Lavilotte descended in the elevator and 
hurried out to her waiting brougham, and stopped an 
instant with her foot on the step, to turn a kindly, 
inquiring gaze upon the elderly coachman, who held 
the door open before her. An amused twinkle grew 
in his honest eyes as he gravely responded to the 
glance with the words, “No, Miss Joyce, I'm not 
tired nor cold — where next ? ” 

“If you are certain, Gilbert ; but it was a good 
while, and ” — “ It’s mild and pleasant to-day, Miss 
Joyce.” 

“ Well, it’s good of you to think so. Then drive 
to the Bonnivels, and I won’t be so long this time.” 

“ Take all the time you want, Miss Joyce.” 

He gently shut the door upon her and, mounting 
to the box, drove carefully away through the thronged 
streets, turning westward and leaving the neighbor- 
hood of legal offices to plunge into the somewhat un- 
savory precincts given over to markets and fruit 
venders, passing which, he gradually emerged into the 
less frequented lengths of avenue leading far out 
into the suburbs. It was a long and not too pleasant 
14 


OLD FRIENDS. 


15 


drive, but Joyce Lavillotte was too busy with her 
thoughts to mind, and Gilbert Judson too intent 
upon the safe guidance of her spirited team to care. 
The dreamer inside was indeed surprised when he 
stopped and, glancing out, she saw they had reached 
their destination. 

It was a corner house, frame-built, and of a com- 
fortable, unfashionable aspect, set down in a square 
which showed its well-kept green even in winter. 
The lace-hung windows were broad, sunny and many 
paned, and a gilded cage flashed back the light in one 
of them. Joyce flung it an eager glance of expect- 
ancy and ran lightly up the steps of the square 
porch, as if overjoyed to be there. Before she 
could ring, the door was flung open with the out- 
burst, 

“ I knowed it was you ! I saw you froo de 
window.” She caught up the laughing child with 
a loving word. “ Of course you knew me, sweetheart ! 
Where’s mama, and Auntie, and ‘ Wobin’, and 
all?” 

The brown curls bobbed against her shoulder and 
the red lips met her own in frank affection. 

“ Dey’s heah, but Wobin’s wunned away.” 

“ Wunned away ? The naughty dog ! Ah, Dorette, 
there you are ! How’s the blessed mother?” 

‘‘Better, Joyce ; no pain in several days. Come 
in, dear — she’ll be so glad! Oh, Joyce I did think 
when all restrictions were removed ” 

“ Ah ! no, dear. You knew I would observe every 
form of respect. I have been nowhere yet.” 


16 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

She glanced down meaningly at her black gown, 
and Dorette’s olive skin flushed in a delicate fashion. 

“ I beg your pardon. You are right, as usual. 
Come in to ma mere.” 

Joyce followed the sweet-faced young woman, 
still carrying the little child who was so like her, and 
thus entered the large and pleasant living-room of the 
old house. In the embrasure of one broad window, 
seeming to focus all the light which streamed in 
freely through the thin, parted curtains, sat a woman 
in a gown of soft white wool, made with artistic 
simplicity. Her face had the same soft cream tint as 
her gown, and the hair, turned back in loose waves 
from her broad forehead, was of a purplish black, 
occasionally streaked with gray. All the features 
were clean-cut and delicate, but the expression in the 
large black eyes was that vague, appealing one which 
too surely indicates the utter loss of sight. 

Evidently the woman, still exceptionally beautiful 
in her maturity, was hopelessly blind. 

Joyce quickly set down the little one, and advanced 
on winged feet. 

“ Ma mkre,” she said in a voice almost of adora- 
tion, as she dropped to her knees beside the woman’s 
chair, “ Ma mere, I have come back.” 

“Dear one! Ma petite! ” exclaimed the other in 
liquid southern accents, reaching out a delicate, trem- 
bling hand, which the girl caught and kissed de- 
votedly. “ We have longed for you. But we knew 
you would come ! Let me see your face, child.” 

Joyce turned it upward and remained very still 


OLD FRIENDS. 


17 

while the other lightly touched brow, eyes, lips, and 
chin, in a swift, assured fashion. 

“Ah, you are truly the same little Joyce. There 
is the breadth between the eyes like an innocent 
child’s, the straight, firm little nose like a Greek out- 
line, the full curved lips — do you still pout when an- 
gry, cherie ? — and that square, decided turn to the 
chin, more apparent than ever. You have grown, 
Joyce ; you are a woman now.” 

“ Yes, mother, but still a baby to you, and I want 
always to keep the old name for you, no matter how 
I grow. Ma mere, you have grown younger, and are 
more beautiful than ever.” 

“No flattery, mignonne ! It is not good for me. 
Sit down here and tell us all there is to tell. You 
are very lonely, now ? ” 

“ I am alone — yes.” 

Joyce drew a chair close beside the other and sat 
down, while the older women smiled slightly. 

“ Yes, there is a difference. They tell me you are 
very rich.” 

“ Too rich, dear mother ; it frightens me ! ” 

“ Money is a great power, my child.” 

“ And a terrible responsibility, as you have always 
taught me, ma mere.” 

“ True. We have both known happy days with- 
out it. Still ” “ If it had only come in the right 

way, Mother Bonnivel ! ” cried the girl in an irrepres- 
sible outburst, “ But oh ! there’s a stain on every 
dollar. I must spend my whole life trying to remove 
the stain, trying to make it honest money. Do you 
2 


18 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

remember our little French fable ? How the cursed 
coin of the oppressor left its mark in boils and burns, 
until it had been sanctified by relieving the starving 
child ? I must sanctify what my father — snatched — 
ma mere.” 

“ And you will, Joyce — I know that.” 

“Yes, I mean to, God helping me. I have just 
come from a stormy interview with dear old Mr. Bar- 
rington, but I have won him over at last. Yet, it is 
you, mother, who will do it all, for I shall simply 
carry out your plans and ” 

“ My plans? what, Joyce ! I have never ” 

“ Oh no, because you had not the means, so what 
was the use ? But all the same it is you. Didn’t you 
supply all the ideas, all the longings and the fore- 
sight? Every bit of it is what you have instilled 
into me from babyhood. 

“They are your own dreams — yours and Leon’s. 
Now let us make them reality. But where did Do- 
rette go, and where is Camille ? I want you all to 
hear — and good Larry, too.” 

“ Then stay the day with us, dear. Larrimer will 
not be home till evening, and there is so much to 
talk about.” 

“ Shall I ? Oh, how blissful to think I can ! I will 
go out and send Gilbert home, then. He has waited 
for me so patiently all the morning. Dear Mother 
Bonnivel, is it wicked that I can’t be sad and regret- 
ful, but that the freedom is so sweet — so sweet f ” 

“ It is natural at least, my love. Go and dismiss 
Gilbert until to-morrow morning. It will be too late 


OLD FRIENDS. 


19 

for your long ride home after our seven o’clock din- 
ner. Then hurry back. I begrudge every minute 
you are gone.” 

Joyce sped gaily away, and returned minus her hat 
and furs. 

“ I l e ft them in the hall,” she explained, as 
Dorette looked up questioningly, having just 
re-entered. “Are you glad I’m to stay, Dodo? 
Do give me some sewing now, Dorey, just in the old 
way. Is there nothing to do for baby ? ” 

“ Nothing ! Indeed you’d think there was some- 
thing, to see the way she goes through her cloth- 
ing. She’s a perfect terror, Joyce! Well, take this 
bit of a yoke— can you hemstitch as neatly as 
ever ? ” 

“Try me; I don’t know. Ellen does everything 
now.” 

“ You have a maid ? ” 

“ Oh yes, I could not live alone. But Ellen is 
scarcely that. She is too staid, too old and respect- 
able. She is my companion, rather.” 

“ And you are still in that great hotel ? ” 

“Yes, our rooms were taken for a year, and the 
time is not up for some months yet, so it seemed 
best. And we are quite independent there. We 
live as quietly in our suite of rooms as if we were in 
a separate flat. And our places at table are reserved 
in a far corner of the great salon, so that by timing 
ourselves we avoid the crowd, and we do not become 
conspicuous.” 

“Yes, I understand. One can live much as one 


20 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

elects to anywhere,” said Madame Bonnivel, caress- 
ing little Dodo as the child leaned against her. 

“ I don’t know,” laughed Joyce. “There have 
been times when we didn’t think so — did we, 
Dorette? Oh, it is so good — so good to be here ! ” 

Over their needlework the talk ran on, largely rem- 
iniscent in character, and mostly in a joyous strain. 
The young matron, Mrs. Larrimer Driscoll, was 
evidently no ready talker, but her interest was so 
vivid that she was a constant incitement to Joyce, 
who seemed to have broken bounds, and was by 
turns grave and gay, imperious and pleading in a 
succession of moods as natural as a child’s and almost 
as little controlled. Presently she who has been re- 
ferred to as Dodo’s auntie, Miss Camille Bonnivel, 
entered and, after one swift look at the guest, who 
stood smilingly awaiting the outbreak of her astonish- 
ment, threw up both hands and flew across the 
room. 

“Joyce ! ” she cried, “ Joyce Lavillotte ! So the 
proud heiress of a hundred acres — mostly marsh-land, 
but no matter ! — has condescended to our low estate. 
Shall I go down on one knee, or two ? ” 

“ On four, if you have them, you gypsy ! Come, 
kiss me and stop this nonsense. Dear ! How you 
have grown, you tiny thing. You must be nearly to 
my elbows by this.” 

“ Elbows! I’m well on towards five feet, I’ll let 
you know. But you are superb, Joyce — ‘divinely 
tall and most divinely fair’ ; isn’t that it ? Come, 
stoop to me.” 


OLD FRIENDS. 


21 


They kissed heartily, the dark little creature stand- 
ing on tiptoe, while Joyce bent her head low, then 
Dodo claimed attention from “ Cammy,” and amid 
bursts of laughter and sometimes a rush of sudden 
tears, the talk flowed on, as it can only flow when 
dearest friends meet after long separation, with no 
estrangement and no doubts to dim the charms of 
renewed intercourse. 


CHAPTER III. 


JOYCE’S INTERESTS. 

JOYCE had not exaggerated when she spoke of the 
'settlement about the Works as a desolate, unpictur- 
esque, uninviting spot, and Camille had skirted the 
truth, at least, when she referred to the inherited 
acres as “ marsh lands.” Had she named them a 
desert instead, though, she would have been nearer 
correct, for is not a desert a “ great sandy plain ? ” 
So was the site of the great factories known as the 
Early Glass Works. They seemed to have been set 
down with no thought but to construct — a shelter 
for costly machinery ; as to those who worked it, let 
them manage anyhow. The buildings were massive 
and expensive where used to protect senseless iron 
and steel ; low, squalid, and flung together in the 
cheapest way where used to house sentient human 
beings. 

In a certain spasm of reformation they had been 
purchased by James J. Early after a venture in his 
gambling schemes so surpassingly “ lucky ” — to quote 
himself — that he was almost shamed into decency 
by its magnitude. He even felt a thrill of compunc- 
tion — a very brief thrill — for the manner in which two- 
22 


23 


JOYCE’S INTERESTS. 

score people, who had trusted him, were left in the 
trough of ruin while he rode high on the wave of 
success. Almost trembling between triumph and 
contrition, he had been seized with the virtuous 
resolve to quit speculation for honest industry, and 
his investment in these glass-works was the result. 
Through his wildest plunging he -had been shrewd 
enough never to risk his all in one venture-^in fact, 
he never took any great risks for himself, except so 
far as his immortal soul was concerned — consequently 
when death overtook him and he, perforce, laid 
down the only thing he valued, his fortune, it had 
reached proportions of which figures could give but 
little idea. His daughter Joyce, sole heir-at-law, was 
almost overwhelmed by the burden of these mil- 
lions, especially as she realized how dishonestly they 
had been acquired. She thoroughly appreciated the 
methods taken to possess them (one cannot say earn 
in this connection) and her sensitive soul shrank in 
terror from benefiting only through others’ misfor- 
tunes. If she could not gather up and restore, she 
might at least bestow wherever help seemed most 
needed, thus perhaps in time lifting the curse she 
felt must rest on these ill-gotten gains. With James 
Early’s usual policy he had spent money at the 
Works only where it would increase the value of the 
plant, and the working power of the machinery. 
The idea of wasting a dollar in making the homes 
of his employees more attractive, or in putting with- 
in their reach mental and moral helps, had never 
even occurred to him. Treeless, arid, and flat, the 


24 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

country stretched away on every side, only broken 
by one or two slight knolls separating the Works 
from a small river that intersected the land at some 
distance. In the midst of this plain stood the great 
buildings, belching forth smoke from their tall chim- 
neys, while, radiating from this busy nucleus, were 
several rows of mere barracks, known as the cottages 
of the workmen. 

It should be the daughter’s policy to make this 
district blossom as the rose, and to make its people 
happy and contented. 

You have doubtless noticed the seeming discrep- 
ancy between the names borne by Joyce and her 
father, and this is its explanation. The marriage 
of the scheming Yankee, James Early, into the then 
wealthy and powerful family of Lavillotte, old-timers 
of Louisiana soil, was considered the opposite of an 
honor by them, with the exception of the young 
girl, educated in the north, who had been fascinated 
by his fine looks and glib tongue. Therefore, when 
Joyce was born, an edict was issued by its leading 
members — two patriarchal uncles who held control 
of the property — that she should be cut off from her 
maternal rights in the family estate unless allowed 
to take the family name. Now, the loss of money 
was to J. J. Early the only loss worth mention- 
ing, so he reluctantly consented, with but one stip- 
ulation — that she should bear his middle name, 
which was Joyce. Having assured themselves that 
Joyce was a proper Christian cognomen, suitable to a 
woman, they yielded the point, and Joyce Early was 


JOYCE’S INTERESTS. 


25 


made Joyce Lavillotte by due process of law before 
old enough to know, much less to speak, her name. 
That this property was largely lost during^the civil 
war, leaving the Earlys almost destitute at the time 
that broken-spirited lady died, had never altered this 
fact ; nor was it changed when, later, after the death 
of both uncles, the property in partially restored 
shape came to the girl, so bound beneath legal re- 
strictions, that she could never have the management 
of anything but the income. In fact, so engrossed 
had Early become in his own money-making, by 
this, that he had little thought to bestow upon a 
daughter who could never sympathize in what made 
life’s interest for him. He had controlled her ex- 
istence to his own purposes, knowing that an ac- 
knowledged home and daughter somehow give a 
man caste in the community, but outside of certain 
restrictions, and very galling ones, he had let her 
severely alone. Now that liberty and great means 
had fallen to her, what use should she make of 
them ? 

She stood a moment looking around her, after 
she had alighted from the train at the little brown 
one-room station-house, trying to take it all in at 
one glance of her brilliant eyes. She had never 
been here before, but she had had countless photo- 
graphs made, and supposed herself thoroughly ac- 
quainted with the spot. But, to some minds, photo- 
graphs are confusing things, jumbling up the points 
of compass in an unreliable manner. Joyce found 
that it was almost as strange as if never pictured out 


26 * JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

before her, and a great deal uglier than she had 
supposed. She shivered as she gazed around upon 
the bleakness everywhere, perhaps largely accentu- 
ated by a gray, chilly morning of early spring, with 
the small patches of snow, left by winter, blackened 
and foul. Ellen Dover, at her elbow, remarked 
plaintively, 

“ There, Miss Joyce, I knowed you’d need your 
sealskin such a day,” to which the girl only answered, 
with an odd smile, 

“ Even a sealskin couldn’t stop that shiver, Ellen ; 
it might make it worse, indeed. Come, I think this 
is the way to the office. Doesn’t it say something 
over that door at the right ? Yes, there it is — come 
on ! ” 

They traversed a considerable space of uneven 
ground crossed and recrossed by the narrow-gauge 
tracks upon which the sand and grit trucks ran, avoid- 
ing one or two localities where steam shot upward 
from the ground in a witch-like and erratic manner, 
with short angry hisses and chopping sounds that 
suggested danger, and finally stood before the door 
designated “ OFFICE ” in plain lettering. Joyce 
looked around at her companion with a perplexed 
little laugh. 

“ Do we knock, Ellen? How does one do at a 
place like this,— just walk in as it ’twere a shop, or 
wait till you’re let in, as at a house ? ” 

“ Goodness me ! ” bridled Ellen, gazing at the 
uninviting exterior. “Why should you be knock- 
ing and waiting when you own the whole business, 


JOYCE’S INTERESTS. 


2; 


I’d, like to know? Just push in and tell who you 
be — that’s what I’d do.” 

“Oh, I think not, Ellen — would you? I’d rather 
err on the safe side, seems to me. Do let’s be polite, 
at least! Yes, I’ll knock,” and a timid rat-tat-tat, 
made by a small kid-covered knuckle, announced the 
first visit of the present owner of the great Early 
Works. 

After an instant’s delay the door was partly opened, 
and a preoccupied face, with perpendicular lines 
between the keen gray eyes, was thrust out impa- 
tiently, with the words, 

“ Well, why don’t you come in ? What — Oh, 
excuse me, ladies. Good-morning ! What can I 
do for you ? ” 

“ Is Mr. Dalton in?” asked Joyce embarrassedly. 

“Yes, I am he ; please walk in. You’ll have to 
excuse the litter here. I’ve been too busy to let 
them clean it up. Here’s a chair, Miss — and here, 
ma’am ” — calmly overturning two close beside the 
desk, that were heaped with papers. 

Having thus seated his guests, the man stood in an 
inquiring attitude, surreptitiously glancing at Joyce 
who seemed to him almost superhumanly beauti- 
ful in that dusty place, for her pink flush and shy 
eyes only accentuated her charms. She found it 
necessary to explain the intrusion at once, but was 
so nervous over just the right form of self-introduc- 
tion required that she rather lost her head, and stam- 
mered out, 

“ I — I thought I’d like to see the works and — and 


28 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

you ” — then stopped, feeling how awkward was this 
beginning. 

A smile flitted over his grave countenance. 

“ I am before you,” he said, bowing somewhat elab- 
orately. “ If looking at me can do anybody any 
good ” 

She checked him with a somewhat imperious 
gesture. 

“ I am Joyce Lavillotte,” she said, growing 
cool again, “ and I would like to look the place 
over.” 

The sentence died into silence before an ejacula- 
tion so amazed and long-drawn it made Joyce’s eyes 
open wide. The man looked ready to burst into 
laughter, yet full of respect, too. At length he broke 
out, 

“ I beg your pardon ! I am so surprised. I sup- 
posed you were a man. It’s your name, probably, 
that deceived me — and then I never thought of a 
girl — a young lady — caring to examine into things, 
and asking for statistics, and so on. Then your 
handwriting — it was so bold. And your methods of 
expression — well, I have been completely fooled ! ” 

He stopped the voluble flow of words, which Joyce 
felt instinctively to be unlike himself, and gazed 
at her again in a forgetfulness somewhat embarrass- 
ing. Joyce was trying to think of something to say 
when he broke out once more, “Yes, I supposed of 
course you were a man, and not so very young, 
either. I had pictured you the moral image of your 
father ” — he stopped an instant, then asked with a 


JOYCE'S INTERESTS. 29 

sort of regretful note in his voice — “ he was your 
father?” 

“Yes,” said Joyce coldly. “Only I bear my 
mother’s name for certain private reasons.” 

“Yes. I had thought Lavillotte was merely a 
middle name. We have always spoken of — of you — 
as young Early, here. But excuse me ! I am very 
glad to see you, Miss Lavillotte. You wish to go 
over the works, you say ? ” 

“ Yes, if perfectly convenient. And I want, if pos- 
sible, to go inside one or two of the houses, if I may. 
Could it be managed, Mr. Dalton ?” 

“ Assuredly. J ust let me announce you, and they’ll 
be honored ” 

“But wait a minute!” Joyce was gathering her 
wits again. 

“ Is the idea general here that I am a man ? ” 
smiling up into his face so blithely that his eyes re- 
flected the light in hers.” 

“ Why, yes, I’m afraid it is. You see we know so 
little of Mr. — of your father — in a personal way, and 
all I have said has been under that impression. I 
humbly beg your pardon for it, Miss Lavillotte.” 

“ No, you needn’t. I’m not sure but I shall thank 
you for the mistake, indeed. Let me think a minute. 
Yes, I believe I shall leave myself undiscovered for 
a time, •at least. I may see things more exactly as 
they are in that way. But don’t they know my 
name at all, Mr. Dalton ?” 

“ I think not. You have only been mentioned as 
Early’s son, I am certain. There has been no occa- 


30 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

sion to speak of the heir except to one or two, and I 
know the name Early was given him.” 

Joyce could scarcely keep from laughing outright 
at his tone and manner, for he could not yet conceal 
his sense of the unexpected, even the ludicrous, in 
this denouement. And if it so impressed him, might 
it not also make her something of a laughing-stock 
among her people, as she liked to call them ? Would 
they give her credit for knowing enough to try and 
promote their interests in all she did ? The idea of 
remaining incognito appealed still more strongly to 
her, and she said slowly, 

“ I don’t exactly relish the role of impostor, but it 
might be justifiable in this case. Mr. Dalton, I want 
to make improvements here that shall benefit the 
people directly, and I don’t want to begin by having 
them laugh at me — as you are doing.” 

He glanced up quickly at the reproachful tone, but 
catching the gleam of fun in her eye relaxed happily. 

“ I didn’t mean to,” he said contritely, “ but you 
took me so by surprise ! I am ready, now, to do 
whatever you wish done, and there shall be no 
more laughing.” 

“Well, then, could we not — this is Miss Dover, 
Mr. Dalton — couldn’t we pass as acquaintances of 
yours, say ? Don’t people ever come to look the 
Works over?” 

“ Not often, but they might. And shall I invent 
new names for you both ? ” His manner was as 
alert as Joyce’s own, now, and the perpendicular 
lines were nearly smoothed out between his eyes. 


JOYCE’S INTERESTS. 


3i 


“ No. If, as you say, my name is unknown we will 
not dye ourselves too deeply in deception. I think 
I’ll remain Joyce Lavillotte, thank you ! Can we 
start at once ? ” 

He seemed pleased at her eagerness, but gave her 
handsome mourning costume a perplexed glance. 

“ Assuredly, only — I don’t know much about such 
things, but aren’t you pretty well dressed to go 
around in the worst parts ? There are some dirty 
places, though it’s clean work in the main. I know 
you wish to be thorough,” with an approving glance, 
“so I mention it. You haven’t any old frock that 
you could get at near by ? ” 

At this instant Ellen was heard to give a little 
sniff and both turned their gaze upon her, Dalton’s 
questioning, and Joyce’s laughing and deprecatory. 

“ Did you speak, Ellen ? ” she asked mischievously. 

“No ’m, I didn’t, but I was just a-thinkin’ that if 
you’d ’a’ listened to me and wore your old Henrietta- 
cloth ” 

“ But as usual I did not listen, Ellen, and we won’t 
scold now about unimportant matters. Lead on, 
Mr. Dalton; we’re ready.” 

The man reached for his hat, closed his ledger 
carefully upon the pen he had been using, then 
opened an inner door, and stood aside to let them 
pass on through a short, narrow entry, from which 
another door led them directly into the noise and 
vapors of the Works. 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE WORKS AND WORKMEN. 

IT would not be best to attempt a detailed de- 
scription of the Early Glass Works, lest the subject 
prove so interesting we forget our story. There are 
few industries so fascinating to watch, or even to 
read about, as that of glass-blowing, and on this 
inspection morning Joyce had to keep reminding 
herself that she had come, primarily, to study the 
workmen and not the process, so absorbed did she 
frequently become in the latter. 

The Early Works made a specialty of flint-glass 
crystal, and cut and engraved ware for domestic and 
ornamental use, also of the finer qualities or shades for 
lamps and chandeliers. As Joyce lingered again and 
again to watch the swift and graceful shaping of the 
molten substance, while airy stem or globe were blown 
into being by the breath of man, to be afterwards 
carved into exquisite designs upon the emery-wheel, 
or graven against the spindle, all with a dexterity 
that seemed simply marvelous to her ignorance, she 
decided in her own mind that a master at glass 
working was not an artisan, but an artist. 

Mr. Dalton seemed amused at her child-like delight, 
and tried to explain all she observed in language not 
too technical for her comprehension. But often 
she became too absorbed to question, or even listen, 
3 2 


THE WORKS AND WORKMEN. 33 

at which times he stood silently by, watching with 
open admiration her fair, expressive face. 

Dalton was, in a sense, a self-made man, having 
begun as stoker of one of the annealing furnaces 
when both he and the Works were young. He had 
climbed steadily, serving his apprenticeship in each 
department, and studying at a night-school, when 
such were in operation, until the sudden demise of 
Mr. Early had lifted him from the position of fore- 
man to that of manager, by right of a thorough 
understanding of the business. He was a plain 
thoughtful-seeing man, in his thirties, who showed 
by his terse speech, practical manner, and business 
garb that he had no intention of forgetting his work- 
a-day life in his present elevation. Perhaps he had 
never so keenly felt how entirely it had been a work- 
a-day life until this morning. 

After a time Joyce ceased to feel dazed over the 
dull roar of the furnaces, the flash and glow of the 
fiery masses of molten glass as lifted from the pots, 
the absorbing sight of the blowing, rolling, clipping, 
joining, cutting, and engraving, and the precision 
and silence of the white-aproned, sometimes mask- 
protected workmen. She could begin to notice 
individuals and study faces. 

She stopped, finally, close by the marver of a 
young man — boy she called him to herself — the pre- 
cision of whose workmanship was that of a machine. 
He was shaping a slender, long-stemmed, pitcher-like 
vase made in three parts, foot, body and handle, after- 
wards joining them in one exquisitely fine whole, 
3 


34 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

after the manner of the Clichy crystal ware. He was 
a remarkable looking being, she thought, divided 
between studying his face and admiring his work- 
manship. Though somewhat deformed, with a curv- 
ing back and high shoulders, the face that crowned 
this misshapen figure might have been the original 
of one of those intaglios of Venice, which seem to 
reproduce all that is refined and choice in human 
features. He had the broad brow, delicate, sensitive 
nose, curved and mobile lips, and the square, slightly 
cleft chin that make up an almost perfect outline. 
Yet the large dark eyes bore an expression of such 
hopelessness, such unyouthful gravity, that the whole 
face seemed gloomed over, as when a heavy cloud 
shuts out the brilliant sunshine of an August day. 
He did not deign so much as a glance towards the 
visitors, but like an automaton blew the graceful 
bulb, shaped it upon his marver, with a light, skilful 
blow detached it from his blowing-iron, received from 
his assistant the foot and joined the two, with a dex- 
trous twist and turn shaped the slender handle and 
added that, all the time keeping his “ divining-rod ” 
(as Joyce named it to herself) turning, rolling, advanc- 
ing, receding, as if it were some inspired wand, im- 
pelled to create the absolutely beautiful in form and 
finish. As they slowly passed on Joyce breathed 
out involuntarily, 

“ Poor boy ! He seems too sad even to wish for 
anything.” 

Dalton gave her a quick, keen glance. 

“You have guessed it, Miss Lavillotte. He’s got 


THE WORKS AND WORKMEN. 35 

where he doesn’t care. He is one of our finest work- 
men, and a good fellow, but he is so unsocial and 
gloomy the other boys all shun him.” 

“Do you know his story?” asked Joyce with 
interest. 

“ Why, yes, I know something of him. It isn’t 
much of a story, though,” laughing a little. “ We 
don’t go much into romancing here. He had a twin 
brother that was as handsome as he in the face, and 
straight and tall into the bargain ; in fact, as fine a 
fellow as you’ll see in a century — and he shot him 
last year.” 

“ Shot him ? ” Joyce recoiled in horror. 

“Yes, accidentally of course. Their father had 
been a soldier in the civil war, and in some way the 
rifle he carried, with his name and the date scratched 
on the trigger-plate, was sent to the boys by a com- 
rade after his death. Dan, there, was handling it, 
supposing it unloaded as usual, when it went off and 
shot his brother, who was leaning over him, right 
through the heart. That’s all.” 

“ All ! ” Joyce breathed the word with a meaning, 
practical George Dalton scarcely understood, and 
they proceeded in silence. 

One other of the workers attracted the girl, as 
instantly, and partially distracted her thoughts from 
Dan. This was a girl with a peculiar face ; not hand- 
some. Joyce could only think of one descriptive 
word — high. Pale, with dark coloring in hair and 
eyes, she seemed somehow remote, lifted above the 
common life about her, like one living in a world of 


36 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

her own. She, too, seemed absorbed in her work of 
engraving, and did not for an instant remove her 
eyes from her delicate task, as she slowly turned and 
pressed the globe against the spindle, working out 
the pattern etched in the film covering its surface. 
But Joyce asked no questions about her as they 
passed on. 

“ Now for the homes,” she said, after the long tour 
of the buildings was completed. “ How can we gain 
entrance without seeming to intrude ? Had we better ^ 
all try to go ? It will seem like a regular incursion, 
won’t it ? ” 

Mr. Dalton smiled. 

“ If you could let me out, I’d be grateful. I’ve a 
big day’s work laid out on the time-books and ac- 
counts, for to-morrow’s pay-day. But of course, if 
you need me ” 

“ No, no. It has been vory good of you to give 
us so much time. If I were only an agent, now, and 
had something to sell ” 

“ ’Twouldn’t be a bad scheme, Miss Lavillotte, in 
case you really want to see them as they are. If you 
had some new-fangled baking dish, or a story paper, 
or ” 

Joyce looked up with a flashing glance, and turned 
to Ellen, who received the notice with a sniff and a 
restrained smile. 

“ Y ou have one, Ellen. We bought it on the train. 
It’s full of pictures and short stories.” 

“ Yes *m, I’ve got it. You left it on the seat and 
I picked it up.” 


THE WORKS AND WORKMEN. 37 

“ And now your frugality is to be rewarded. But 
wouldn’t it be prying, Mr. Dalton ? ” 

“ Possibly. But wouldn’t it be, anyway ? I gather 
you have some good reason for wishing to see these 
people at home.” 

“ I have. I want to know just how and where to 
help them best, but I hate to act in an underhanded 
way. And yet, if the paper would serve to give me 
entrance I’d try not to prevaricate in the least.” 

“ I think you may be trusted, Miss Lavillotte.” 

“ Ellen, will you stay here in the office while I try 
it alone ? ” 

“ If you tell me to I s’pose I must, but I think 
it’s a wild-goose chase anyhow,” was the disapprov- 
ing answer. “ I can tell you what you’ll find well 
enough,” sniffing disgustedly, “ and that is babies, 
bad smells, dirt, and scolding. I’ve been there 
afore ! ” 

Joyce laughed gaily. 

“ Give me the story paper, Ellen. I’m going to 
find all those things, surely, but more — much more, 
as you’ll see in time,” and, snatching the sheet from 
her maid’s reluctant hand, she was off with a merry 
look back at the two, who watched her till she had 
rounded the corner of the great building and dis- 
appeared. 

“ It’s a queer streak ! ” muttered Dalton, as he 
turned back into the little office room, which had 
never looked so dim and dingy before. “ For a girl 
that’s rich and handsome ” 

“ Don’t see what there is so queer in being good ! ” 


38 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

returned Ellen belligerently. “Just ’cause she’s got 
a heart and sense beyond her years folks calls her a 
freak. Of course it cuts, but she only laughs and 
goes on just the same’s ever. I get so mad, some- 
times, I’d like to stomp on ’em, but she just looks at 
me smiling brave-like, with her lips twitching a bit, 
and says, ‘Never mind so long’s we’re surely right,’ 
and then I can’t say a word.” 

Dalton looked at her reflectively. He was not 
used to women, and it struck him, once or twice, 
that this elderly companion would have liked to dic- 
tate to her young mistress, had the latter allowed it. 
So, not feeling quite sure of his ground, he remarked 
vaguely, 

“ I suppose a girl like that would be naturally wil- 
ful — having everything heart could wish. But ” 

“Well then, I’ll let you know she isn’t,” snapped 
Miss Dover. “ Wilful indeed ! ” and seating herself 
with resentful suddenness she glared at him till he 
was glad to bury himself in his books, and try to 
forget the excitements of the morning in figures. 


CHAPTER V. 


AMONG THE COTTAGES. 

JOYCE, laughing to herself, tripped across the 
ground occupied by the works, and, after a hurried 
glance along the first row of cottages, selected one 
at random and making straight for it, knocked with 
some trepidation, but no delay. She heard herself 
announced inside by a childish voice in descriptive 
fashion — “ Say, ma, it’s a girl in swell clothes — 
hurry ! ” and began to question if she were too well 
dressed, even in her plain black garb, for her part. 
Certainly there was an air about her not common to 
the traveling agency people, but whether it were 
entirely due to her garments may be doubted. 

After considerable scurrying about inside, plainly 
distinguished through the thin planking, the door 
was gingerly opened a few inches and a touzled head 
appeared in the slit. 

“ Good-morning, ’m,” spoke the head with an in- 
quiring accent, which plainly meant, “ And what 
do you want ? ” 

Joyce partly ignored the woman and her brus- 
querie, for the pretty curly pate of a baby clinging to 
her skirts, and her ready smile was for him, as she 
said, 

“ What a bright-eyed baby ! May I come in for a 
minute and talk to you ? ” 


39 


40 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 


The mother thawed to that, and the door fell wide 
apart. “ Why, yes, come in, come in ! I’m wash- 
ing to-day, but there’s no great hurry ’s I knows on. 
Sit there, won’t ye ? It’s more comfor’ble.” 

Quite willing to be “ more comfor’ble,” if at no 
one’s expense, Joyce sank into the old came rocker, 
still beaming upon the baby, who shyly courted 
her from amid the damp folds of his mother’s 
skirts. 

“ He’s pretty smart for ’leven months,” affirmed 
the latter, lifting him to her knee, and dropping into 
the wooden chair opposite with a sense of utter re- 
laxation that struck the caller as being the next thing 
to unconscious grace, even in that lank, slatternly 
figure. “ He can go clear ’round the room by takin’ 
hold o’ things. I guess you like babies, ’m ? ” 

“ I like some babies — and yours is a beauty ; large, 
too. I had thought*him much older.” 

“Yes, he’s as big as I care to lug — that’s certain ! 
Dorey, go and stir down the clo’es in the boilin’, 
suds, and be quick about it, too ! Don’t ye know 
better’n to stand starin’ at folks like a sick cat ? ” 
This, to a little girl, presumably the herald of Joyce’s 
approach, who had been peeping in through the 
crack of a rear door. 

Joyce, dreading a storm, asked politely, 

“You have two children, have you ? ” 

The woman laughed with something of a bitter 
cadence. “ Oh yes, and seven more atop o’ them. 
There’s two between baby and Dorey, and five older. 
My three oldest is in the Works, and Rache is about 


AMONG THE COTTAGES. 


4i 


the best hand they’ve got, if I do say it. Rache 
earns good wages, I tell ye — better’n the boys. But 
then, what with tobacco and beer, and beauin’ the 
girls around to dances and shows, and all, you can’t 
expect a fellow to have much left for his own folks. 
And my other two gals is workin’ out in town. 
Dorey, stop jouncin’ them hot clo’es up an’ down 
in the suds ! You’ll git scalt with ’em yit.” 

“ Do any of your children go to school ? ” asked 
the caller, quickly. 

The woman laughed shortly. 

“ Where’d they go ? There ain’t no schools 
around here, and we ain’t wanting any, either, since 
our time with that one last year. ’Twas a reg’lar 
sell ! The gal what kep’ it asked a nickel a week 
for every young ’un, and left us right in the middle 
of a term, ’cause she said it didn’t pay. Stuck-up 
thing she was, too ! Couldn’t see nothin’ lower’n 
the top of her own head. I couldn’t abide her! 
No, if you’re thinkin’ of getfcin’ up any of them 
kinter-gardens you might as well give it up,” eying 
Joyce suspiciously. “ We don’t want ’em.” 

“ But would you object to a free public school ? ” 
asked Joyce with a patient air. 

“ Oh, I don’t know’s I should object,” tolerantly. 
“ Rache, she’s a great hand to read, and she takes 
in a magerzine, too, but I never could see the sense 
o’ spendin’ time and money that way. If she marries 
she’ll hev to come down to scrubbin’ and cookin’, 
and tendin’ baby, same’s her ma ; and if she’s an old 
maid, why, there’s the Works, or goin’ out to house- 


42 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

work, and either way I don’t see just where an ed- 
dication comes in.” 

“ It might help her to some easier employment,” 
suggested Joyce, but rather faintly, for the woman’s 
airy loquacity disconcerted her. 

“ It might, an’ then it mightn’t. I’ve seen girls 
as got above their business come down a good deal 
lower than what they started from, and I say, let 
well enough alone. There’s lots of born ladies that 
ain’t no softer spoken than my girl Rache, and she’s 
good to me and the young ’uns. I don’t want 
anybody spoilin’ my fam’ly by these highfalutin’ 
notions.” 

The woman assumed a Cornelia expression that 
almost daunted poor Joyce, who was half a coward 
at heart, anyhow, so she meekly rose to go. 

“ I won’t delay you from your washing any longer ; 
good-by,” she said, nodding at the baby, who showed 
pearly teeth in return ; and she passed out, nor 
realized until later that she had not posed as a can- 
vasser here, unless in an educational sense. 

She felt just a trifle discouraged by the unflinch- 
ing attitude of this Spartan mother, and was pro- 
portionately surprised when, obeying a call to enter 
at the next door, she stepped into a bright, taste- 
fully furnished apartment with flowers in the window 
and magazines on the table. Near by, in a large 
invalid chair reclined a girl — nay, a woman, as Joyce 
decided after the second look, though a small crea- 
ture — busily embroidering upon a little frame, while 
on a small, detachable table, now screwed to the 


AMONG THE COTTAGES. 


43 


arm of her chair, was a bright array of silks, and 
beside them a half-open book, with a pencil slid 
between its leaves. She gave Joyce an inquiring 
glance, and waited for her to speak. The latter 
flushed a little, scarcely knowing how to introduce 
herself, but a second look towards the magazines 
touched up her memory, and she began graciously, 

“ I see you are a reader. I wonder if you would 
care for the paper I have here,” and she handed it 
over for inspection. 

“ Ah, I cannot tell if ’tis so ; pray be seated 
ma’amselle. Yes, I like mooch those peectures and 
those patterns. They do help in my work.” Her 
accent was distinctly foreign, yet every word was so 
plainly enunciated that it was easy to understand 
her. “You do sell this? ” she asked. 

Joyce was nonplussed, but caught at her waning 
wits enough to answer, 

“ Not this copy. It is only for you to look at.” 

“Ah yes,” — quickly, with a merry smile, “ It ees 
a sahmple, eh ? ” 

“Yes, a sample copy, but if you think you could 
use it in your work I will see that you have it every 
month.” 

“And the expense of it?” She looked up ap- 
prehensively. “ That, too, must be considered.” 

“ Surely. You see it says ten cents a number, or 
one dollar a year. But I think I might furnish you 
a sample copy free, if you would speak a good word 
for it among your neighbors. Not to trouble your- 
self any, of course.” 


44 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ That is most kind, and I could do it. The girls 
do coom in and listen as I read, by times. It is a 
great deal that books do for one like me, ma’amselle. 
They are my friends, my coomfort. They, and my 
vork.” 

“ I can well believe it. And what beautiful work 
you do ! Doesn’t it tire you while in that reclining 
position ? You look so delicate.” 

“ But I am so mooch bettare — quite near to well 
once more. I do this, while my sister, she work in 
the glass-house. She is all well and strong — my 
sister.” 

“ That is good ! And you live here alone to- 
gether ? ” 

“Yes, we do. We come across from Havre to- 
gether — we, the two — and we think we will make a 
fortune, now we have lost our parents, and have no 
big strong brother. And then it is I that must get 
sick, and when the fevaer do go after the long weeks, 
it takes with it all my strength, and so I cannot yet 
walk.” 

“ Poor little woman ! But you have such a pretty 
room — how kind your sister must be.” 

“ My Babette ? Ah, she is so bright, so gay. She 
will not let me say that we have been onlooky — oh 
no! She say, ‘You here, I here, nevare mind any 
other thing.’ So she coomfort me.” 

“ And do you send this beautiful embroidery into 
the city ? ” 

“ Yes, I do. To an eschange for womans. I have 
one teeket and that make me one member.” 


AMONG THE COTTAGES. 


45 

“ I see ; ’tis an excellent plan. But who keeps 
house for you ? ” 

“Oh, that is an easy thing. I do skin off the 
potatoes and schop up the meat for the hash,. and 
Babette, she do sweep with the broom and set out 
the table. And while we work she can tell me all 
there is going about outside, and I can tell how 
mooch bettare I am doing this day — do not you 
see? ” 

“ I see you must be very happy together ! But 
do you stay alone all day ! And what if you need 
something, meanwhile ? ” she laughed. 

“ See ? ” with a comprehensive sweep of the hands, 
“ I have everything. But for fear I do get sick, see 
this ? ” 

She put out her hand to a rope dangling along 
the wall close beside her. “ When I pull hard 
once Lucie, in the next house, knows that I would 
like to see her, but it is not bad ; when I pull twice 
then she must indeed run quick, for I need her. She 
is so good, little Lucie ! ” 

By her motions Joyce knew she was speaking of 
the house upon the opposite side from that where 
she herself had just called. So, feeling she must 
economize her time, and anxious to learn all she 
could, she asked at once, 

“ Who is this Lucy ? Please tell me about 
her.” 

There was a way with Joyce that made people like 
to confide in her. She was so bright and pretty, 
so interested, and so free from guile, that hearts 


46 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

opened to her as blossoms to the sun. One could 
not long be reserved in her presence. The invalid 
smiled upon her and chatted on in her odd English, 
telling of the children next door lately left mother- 
less, where the oldest girl, Lucy, aged sixteen, was 
bravely keeping house for father, and looking after 
two younger girls, a baby boy, just learning to toddle 
alone and a younger baby of a few months. It was 
evident a great friendship existed between this little 
Frenchwoman and the maiden, and that there was 
mutual helpfulness in their intercourse, Lucy bring- 
ing youthful cheer and strength to exchange for 
thoughtful lessons in some of the finer ways of liv- 
ing, not common here. 

“ I hope her father is very good to her ! ” cried 
Joyce, becoming at once a partisan of the plucky 
child, upon whom the other was showering encomi- 
ums. “ Only sixteen, and doing all that ! Is he a 
fine workman ? Does he earn much ? ” 

“Yes, when he do work.” The embroiderer bent 
over her frame with renewed diligence, and shut her 
lips together in a determined way. 

“ I understand,” said Joyce quickly, with a little 
sigh ; “ he isn’t quite steady ? ” 

“ I would nevare say ill of him. He mean well — 
oh, yes ! But he do not know when it is time to leave 
off. He take one drink, that make him talk loud and 
laugh ; he take two, that make him swear bad worts 
and knock round the furniture ; he take t’ree, that 
make him come home and beat thos poor leetle girls 
till it make your heart sore ! And poor Lucie will 


AMONG THE COTTAGES. 


47 

try so hard, and then he will be so oogly — but I 
should not so speak to a strangare.” 

“ Don’t let that trouble you ; it shall go no fur- 
ther. I will try and see this Lucy, soon. What is her 
other name ? ” 

“ It is Hapgood, ma’amselle. I pray you to forget 
I have ill spoke of a man who means to be kind, but 
so troubled he must try somehow to forget his cares. 
Many men are like that. And of a truth there is no 
place to go for rest. In the small house the children 
do cry and quarrel, and tired Lucie will scold at 
times, and he does come home so weary, himself. If 
all is not to please him he snatches his hat and goes 
rushing away — but where? The only place that 
makes welcome is the saloon — you know it.” 

“Yes, yes, I do know. And the poor children, 
too ! They ought to have places where they can be 
jolly and make a noise besides in these barren streets. 
Tell me, Mrs. ” 

“ I am not that,” laughing merrily, “ I am Marie 
Sauzay, and my sister, she is Babette, though every- 
body makes it Bab for short, and she likes the little 
name.” 

“ I can imagine it is like her — short and sweet. 
Well, Ma’amselle Marie, tell me this. Is there no 
public hall here — no place of meeting where the 
people may go for music, or pleasure. Don’t you 
have any amusements ? ” 

“ Amusements ! ” Marie laughed outright. 
“ And who would care to amuse us, who have to 
work ? No, no, that is not to be thought of. That 


48 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

Mr. Early, who is the high boss, he would laugh at 
such a question. What have we to do with amuse- 
ments ? ” 

Joyce winced at what seemed to her a direct slur 
upon her father’s memory, but knew it was just. 
She could fairly hear him laugh as Marie spoke, sit- 
ting back in an easy attitude, perhaps mixing a julep 
and cackling amusedly in that peculiar voice that 
was curiously like a scolding woman’s. How often 
she had heard him say, “ Don’t try to mix business 
and philanthropy, my dear. It won’t work. As 
well hope to combine oil and water. You would 
only spoil the one and make a mess of the other. 
The working-classes are best off when let quite alone. 
If you don’t want them to override you, be careful 
to keep them well down. Once let them see you 
mean to give them any leeway, and they are only 
content with a revolution. You can give away as 
much as you like in charity, but just leave me to 
manage the Works, if you please.” 

She sighed once more, and rose to her feet. 

“ Thank you for your courtesy,” she said, hap- 
pening to remember her ostensible errand. “ I shall 
send you the paper soon, and may some day see you 
again. Good-by ! ” 

She passed out, smiling back at the little woman 
until she had softly closed the door, then her young 
face relapsed into grave thoughtfulness. 

“ How large and formidable evil seems when one 
sets out to battle with it ! ” she murmured. “ I 
wonder, is it really so powerful, or does it diminish 


AMONG THE COTTAGES. 


49 


on a closer view, like all things seen through a mist ? 
Can I ever accomplish what I have determined upon? 
Well, at least I can die trying, as Leon used to say.” 

She smiled, and a soft look crept over her face 
though she had set her little teeth in stubborn fash- 
ion. She bent her head as if in retrospect, and 
walked some distance, apparently forgetful of her 
purpose, before she finally selected another door at 
random, and sought admittance. 


4 


CHAPTER VI. 


FRESH GLIMPSES. 

It was high noon when Joyce came quickly into 
the office, her face pale and set, and a strange ex- 
pression in her eyes. 

“ Mr. Dalton,” she said, without any preliminaries, 
•“ did you know that Gus Peters has been frightfully 
burned with some of the molten glass, this morning, 
and has no one to take care of him ? His hands and 
arms are so bad he is perfectly helpless, and there’s 
no one in the house but a stupid child that is too 
frightened to do anything but stare. Isn’t there a 
doctor here, or somebody ? Ellen, you and I must 
attend to him, if there isn’t. He is suffering 
awfully ! ” 

“ That Gus Peters ! ” said the manager with a dis- 
gusted accent. “ He always was an awkward lout. 
Of course there’s a doctor — why didn’t he send for 
him ? ” 

“ Send ! Haven’t I told you there was nobody to 
wait upon him ? How could he send, mad with pain 
as he is, and that child scared out of all the wits it 
ever had ? And no telephone, nor even an errand- 
boy anywhere. How can I get the doctor? Which 
way shall I go ? Don’t you appreciate the fact that 
something must be done ! ” 

She was talking so fast and excitedly the man 
5o 


FRESH GLIMPSES. 


5i 

could only stand and gaze at her, but spurred by her 
impatient gesture he broke out beseechingly : 

“ Please wait a minute, and I’ll send a boy. But 
you needn’t worry so ! These accidents are happen- 
ing — that is, often happen. They get used to them. 
It’s because Gus is new at the business. Excuse me a 
moment.” 

He disappeared through the door into the work- 
room, and Joyce tramped up and down the office as 
if caged, now stopping to look out of the dingy win- 
dows, now leaning over the desk as if to examine 
the papers upon it, but with a face set in such 
troubled lines it was obvious she saw nothing. 
Ellen looked on with an unflinching expression. 
She was evidently used to these moods, and did not 
favor them, but wisely held her peace. 

Presently Mr. Dalton returned, looking a bit anx- 
ious and grim. 

“ They’ve gone for Dr. Browne and he’ll see to 
Gus all right. But you look very tired. Won’t you 
go home with me to dinner ? I have ’phoned my 
aunt to ” 

“ ’Phoned ? Why, I thought — I don’t see — ” 

He smiled indulgently. 

“ Oh, it’s an individual affair I had put up. I 
found it inconvenient not to have some method of 
communication as we are nearly ten minutes’ walk 
apart. 

“ Ah yes, it is inconvenient — especially in cases of 
real need, such as dinner, for instance. Thank you, 
but I think ” 


52 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

Ellen, who had risen at Mr. Dalton’s first word of 
dinner, now advanced with alacrity. 

“ I hope we can go somewheres,” she exclaimed 
with asperity, “ for I’m all one cramp setting still so 
long. And you know you’ll have a headache if 
you don’t eat something, Miss Joyce; you allays 
do.” 

The latter laughed impatiently. 

“ Oh, my headaches ! You feel them more than I 
do, Ellen. However — well, yes, Mr. Dalton, thank 
you, we will be very glad to accompany you. Now 
tell me, please, where is there some good, kind man 
or woman to go and nurse that boy ? ” 

“You mean Gus ? Oh, really, Miss Lavillotte, he 
couldn’t pay anybody if you sent them. The 
neighbors will look after him. They’re kind in such 
cases. Let’s see ” — bowing his guests out of the 
door and locking it behind him — “ Gus keeps 
bachelor’s hall with two or three of the other boys, 
doesn’t he ? Oh, they’ll see to him —don’t you worry ! 
There’ll be a crowd to wait on him, now it’s noon- 
ing hour. They are positively happy when there’s 
an accident to stir them up. It breaks the monotony. 
This way, please, it’s a bit rougher than by the street, 
but cuts off half a block. Perhaps, though, you'd 
rather ” 

“ No, no, this way’s all right. Mr. Dalton,” 
sternly, “ were you ever badly burned ? ” 

The man turned with a sharp movement, and 
looked at her. “ Why I — I don’t know that I ever 
was. Not seriously, you know.” 


FRESH GLIMPSES. 


53 


“ Well, / have been.” 

Joyce pushed up the sleeve of her jacket and 
drew down her glove with a quick motion, full of 
repressed intensity. He had just a glimpse of a 
red scar on the white flesh when, with as sudden a 
motion and a rosy flush, she dropped her arm and 
let the sleeve fall over her wrist, then added more 
gently, 

“ One knows how it hurts when one has suffered 
oneself. I was only eight years old, but I have 
never forgotten the day I tripped and fell against a 
red-hot stove — and I had the tenderest and most 
constant care, too.” 

Had Joyce been looking at her companion’s face 
she would no doubt have been made furious by its 
expression. If ever a laugh struggled in a man’s 
eyes, trying to break bounds, it struggled now in 
George Dalton’s gray orbs ! After an instant, which 
Joyce fondly imagined was given to silent sympathy, 
he said gently, 

“ Burns are serious things, I know. Miss Lavil- 
lotte, I began stroking for the furnaces here when I 
was eight years old. I think” — looking off in an 
impersonal manner, as if reckoning a problem, — 
that from that time on to fourteen, at least, I was 
never without burns on face, hands or arms. Prob- 
ably I grew used to them.” 

Joyce looked up quickly. He was quite serious 
now, and seemed almost to have forgotten the sub- 
ject up between them. Joyce felt suddenly very 
young, and she devoutly wished she had never con- 


54 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

sented to this detestable visit with her manager. 
Then pride came to her aid, and she asked deliber- 
ately, with an intrepid air, 

“ I doubt if people ever really get used to pain. 
Do you think the doctor will be through with that 
boy in half an hour ? ” 

“ Possibly. Of course I don’t know the extent of 
his injuries.” 

“ Let us hurry then,” doubling her pace. “ I shall 
have none too much time before the 2.39 train, and 
we must take that, as I have an engagement in the 
city. Ellen, am I tiring you ? ” 

The maid smiled grimly. She understood this 
as an overture for peace, knowing her young mis- 
tress was never so thoughtful and conciliatory as 
just after being most unreasonable and peremptory. 
She rightly conjectured that the girl was already 
ashamed of her sharpness, and wished to make 
amends in some way. Mr. Dalton’s slower compre- 
hension of womankind was bewildered by these 
rapid changes. Having inwardly decided, in spite 
of Ellen’s favorable testimony, that here was a young- 
lady who had been allowed her own way more than 
was good for her, he was left stranded on the shore 
of his own conjectures by her present tone. He had 
mentally dubbed her a sort of princess, determined 
to have her say in everything ; now she seemed a 
child eager to be led by any one. But Ellen was 
answering with fine sarcasm. 

“ I might walk faster, too, if I hadn’t got ’most 
paralyzed on them wooden chairs. But never mind ! 


FRESH GLIMPSES. 


55 

Keep right on — I guess I can manage to get there, 
if I try hard.” 

Fortunately for her legs and temper, they stopped 
presently before a rather ornate cottage, with several 
peaks and a turret, which was set down in the midst 
of a square lawn that looked unnaturally green to 
Joyce in comparison with the bareness all about it. 
Grass, except in long scraggy tufts here and there, 
or in sparse blades in some odd fence corner, was 
not prevalent at the Works. Joyce liked all that 
was trim and beautiful, but just now this house and 
lawn, so new and snug and smiling, jarred upon her 
like a discordant note. What business had he to 
live where fresh paint and large windows and broad 
verandas should mock at the poverty and squalor of 
all the other houses ? She felt it almost as a per- 
sonal insult. 

Mr. Dalton, to whom a neat home of his own was 
still a novelty, was a trifle hurt by her lack of en- 
thusiasm. He had really looked for a girlish “ Oh, 
how pretty ! ” and somewhat resented Miss Lavil- 
lotte’s quiet way of saying, 

“ I see you have been able to make yourself 
comfortable, even in this forbidding spot, Mr. 
Dalton.” 

But he answered cheerfully, 

“ Oh, yes, yes. It seems good to have a home 
after so many years of fifth-rate boarding houses. 
And the best of it is, my good aunt, who has had a 
hard time breasting the world, enjoys it even more 
than I.” f 


56 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

The girl did not speak at once. She was distinctly 
ashamed of herself. Then she broke out quickly : 

“ I see. It was most good of you. I am hasty as 
an ill-tempered child in my judgments ! Mr. Dalton ” 
— she stopped before the neat iron gate in the low 
fence, which he was holding open for her to pass 
through, and barring the way, said rapidly, “as we 
will have to work together in all that is done here, I 
may as well say at once — I am often quick, irascible, 
unkind. I want things to move at once, and when 
they don’t it makes me cross. It isn’t because I — I 
have money, though — you mustn’t think it. I am 
not such a cad! It’s just my nature, that’s all. I 
can’t help it, and it cuts me up when I come to my 
senses more than it possibly can anybody else. 
There ! Shall we be friends and co-workers, or 
not ? ” 

She held out her small gloved hand, and as he 
warmly clasped it, a flush that was so strange to his 
bronzed cheek it fairly colored for its own temerity, 
made his face foolishly warm. He laughed out like 
a boy. 

“Why, you are the boss, of course,” he said with 
a ring of delight in his voice. “ I shall do exactly 
what you tell me to — how could I help it ? ” 

“ No, you must help it,” 'gravely. “ I really am 
young and inexperienced, as Mr. Barrington says. 
But these ideas are better than I — they really are ! 
When you come to see what I mean, and what I 
want to do, you will approve, I am sure.” 

She was so eager for this approval that he felt 


FRESH GLIMPSES. 


57 


positively dazed by the situation. He could not 
follow such spiral flights, such swoopings and dart- 
ings of mood. He could only look on and be ready 
to her hand the instant she might alight beside him. 
So he only murmured, “ Depend upon me for any 
assistance whatever ! ” thinking meanwhile, with a 
sense of relief, “ Aunt Margaret will understand her ; 
she’s a woman.” 

They had barely stepped within the modern hall 
when a tall figure advanced between the heavy por- 
tieres at one side to meet them. Mrs. Margaret 
Phelps was rather finely formed, but had no other 
beauty except a heavy head of silvery white hair. 
Yet Joyce thought, for a homely woman she was 
the best-looking one she had ever seen ! There was 
sense and kindness in her face, as well as a certain 
self-respect, which drew out answering respect to 
meet it. She acknowledged her nephew’s introduc- 
tion with that embarrassed stiffness common to those 
unused to social forms, but the grasp of her large 
hand was warm and consoling, and her voice had a 
hearty genuineness, as she remarked; 

“ My nephew, George, says you’ve been looking 
at the Works. It isn’t many young ladies would 
care to come so far outside of the city just to see 
them. They wouldn’t think it worth while.” 

Joyce exchanged a quick glance with Dalton and 
knew her identity had not been divulged, so an- 
swered easily, 

“ Oh, don’t you think so? It was like an enchanted 
land to me this morning ! It was all so far beyond 


58 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 


me I could only look on and wonder ; but to watch 
a vase grow into perfect form at a breath was a real 
marvel of creation.” 

“ Well, yes, I guess it’s so. I always feel that way, 
too, when I see an engine. * It seems such a grand 
thing that anybody could get the parts all fitted to- 
gether, and then dare to start it when it was done. 
You can understand how folks may learn figures and 
poetry, and even engineering — but to go back and 
make the things they have to learn about ; that beats 
me ! ” 

Joyce laughed with her, while Mrs. Phelps took 
her wraps, then relinquished them to Ellen, who 
stood by like a sentinel awaiting their movements. 
She seemed to find the presence of the maid some- 
what embarrassing, and followed her laden figure 
into the hall, to whisper, 

“ Say, I’ve got a real nice lady sewing for me. 
Wouldn’t you like to get acquainted with her ? ” 

“ Don’t know as I mind,” returned Ellen, and fol- 
lowed into the next room. During the space his 
aunt was absent, Dalton took up the conversation 
where it had dropped. 

“We always think things are hardest to do that 
are out of our sphere, don’t we ? I suppose, now, you 
and Aunt Margaret could both understand making a 
dress, couldn’t you ?” 

“ Oh yes, even though I could not do it,” laughed 
Joyce. 

“ Well, and I can imagine building the engine, but 
as for the frock ” — he looked at her and made a 


FRESH GLIMPSES. 


59 


gesture of impotence — ” I should never even at- 
tempt it, though I were to lose my head for not try- 
ing. In the first place,” glancing from the trim, 
smooth, tailor-made black gown of his guest to the 
home-cut skirt and shirt-waist of his aunt, just enter- 
ing, and dimly discerning the difference, “ I never 
thought of it before, but I cannot even conceive how 
you get into and out of the things. I suppose you 
do, for I see you women in different ones at times, 
but my thought would be that they must grow upon 
you ” — he was looking at J oyce — “as the calyx around 
a blossom. It all seems merged into you, somehow. 
I never felt it so before.” 

Mrs. Phelps laughed with hearty enjoyment. 

“It’s the cut of it, George! You never felt that 
way looking at me, or — or Rachel Hemphill, say — 
did you ? ” 

“ Why no ; it seems a new sensation,” laughing 
half shamefacedly. “ But it may be just because the 
talk called it up. Isn’t dinner ready — well, I thought 
it was time.” 

A somewhat strident-sounding bell announced it, 
and the three passed directly into the next room, 
furnished so conventionally there was absolutely 
nothing upon which to let the eyes rest in surprise, 
or pleasure. But it was painfully neat and regular, 
and both aunt and nephew were secretly satisfied that 
it must impress even this young heiress as a perfectly 
proper dining-room. And it did. 

Ellen and the “ nice lady,” who had been sewing 
for Mrs. Phelps, joined them at once, and the talk 


60 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

languished as each was called upon to help the other 
in a wearisome round of small dishes, which it seemed 
to Joyce was like the stage processions that simply 
go out at one side to come in at the other. But 
when she tasted of these she no longer begrudged 
their number. They were each deliciously palatable, 
having a taste so new to her hotel-sated palate that 
she could almost have smacked her lips over them in 
her enjoyment. She had a healthy girlish appetite 
and the morning had been long. She positively 
wanted to pass back one or two of the saucers for re- 
filling, but was ashamed of her greediness. Had she 
known that it would have rejoiced Mrs. Phelps for 
days to be thus honored by real appreciation of the 
dainties she had herself prepared, she certainly would 
have done so. Even Ellen forgot to sniff, and all 
set to with a vigor that rather precluded conver- 
sation. 

She thought about it afterwards, as she sat in the 
train, moving rapidly citywards, and wondered why 
there had been such positive pleasure in the mere * 
taste of food. She had sat and minced over rich 
dishes day after day, and never felt that exquisite 
sense of wholesomeness and recuperation. 

She turned to Ellen. 

“ Did you ever eat such nice things before ? What 
made them so good, anyhow?” 

Ellen smiled with unusual relaxation. 

“ They was nice, wa’n’t they? Well, I’ll tell you 
what my mother used to say, and she was the best 
cook in Eaton county, by all odds. Them things 


FRESH GLIMPSES. 


6 1 


made me think of her to-day. She used to say that 
’twas with cooking just like ’twas with church work, 
or anything else. You’d got to put heart into it, as 
well as muscle. She said these hired cooks just put 
in muscle and skill, and they stopped there. But 
when a mother was cooking for her own fam’ly she 
put in them, and heart besides, and that was why 
men was allays telling about their mother’s cooking. 
That was what she said, and I guess she come as near 
to it as most folks.” 

“I guess she did,” assented Joyce. “Well, if I 
can put into my work the same quality Mrs. Phelps 
puts into her cooking I shall make a success of it ; 
won’t I, Ellen?” 

“ Don’t ask me ! ” was the quick response, as the 
maid drew herself up into the austere lines she 
affected. “ You must remember hearts don’t amount 
to much till they’ve been hammered out by hard 
knocks. You’ll do your best, I presume, but what 
can a young thing like you understand ? However, 
they’s one thing ” 

“ Well, what’s that ? ” as Ellen paused abruptly. 

“ Oh nothing. I was just thinking you could 
make anybody do anything you want ’em to, and 
that goes a good way. Well, well, I s’pose there is 
some advantage in being young ! ” 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE HAPGOODS AND NATE. 

The spring was backward that year, and on its 
first evening of real softness and beauty the houses of 
Littleton seemed turned wrong-side-out, like a stock- 
ing-bag, upon the streets. Every door-step had its 
occupants, every fence rail its leaning groups (though 
fences were scarce in Littleton), and the left-overs 
gathered in and around the saloon, familiarly known 
as Lon’s. Among the loungers on its broad, un- 
roofed platform, sat two men, tilted back in wooden 
armchairs, talking in that slow, desultory fashion 
common among those who use hands more than 
tongues in their battle with life. 

“Yes,” drawled one, as he cut off a generous slice 
from the cake of fine-cut in his hands, “ yes, I’m not 
saying but the town ’ll look better when it’s done, 
but what’s it being done for ? That’s what I want 
to know. ’Twon’t make the plant any more valu- 
able, will it ? ” 

“ It orter,” was the response as the other knocked 
the ashes from his black pipe, blew through its stem, 
and proceeded to fill it from a dirty little bag drawn 
from his ragged coat pocket. “ Good houses is 
better’ n shanties, ain’t they ? ” 

“ Of course they’re better, but that’s just it. We 
62 


THE HAPGOODS AND NATE. 63 

can’t none of us pay any more rent than we’re payin’ 
now ; so what’ll he do about it ? ” 

“ Who?” 

“ The new man that owns it — young Early, ain’t 
it ? ” 

“ Oh, the son ; yes. It’s just half way possible 
he thinks we ought to have something better’n pig- 
styes to live in ! ” 

“Well, he isn’t any Early then ! I’ve see the old 
man, and I know. Straight’s a glass rod, and not 
caring shucks for anything but his money. He’d 
grind a feller down to biled-tater parings, if he 
could.” 

It was Lucy’s father just speaking, and his name 
of William Hapgood had been shortened to Bill 
among the villagers, who seemed to have little use 
for family cognomens where family pride was not a 
failing. He was a small man with a rasping voice 
and sharp nose, while the bristling growth about his 
chin was red and his hair brown. All this denoted 
temper, but not the deep and lasting kind ; rather 
the flash-in-the-pan sort, common enough among 
shrewish women, and only common in men of this 
type. Just now his tone was bitter. 

“ Well, it’s a change for the better anyhow, Bill,” 
said the other, who was large, dark, stolid, and 
kindly. “ They ’ve shortened our hours, and allowed 
the shillin’ a week extry. That’s something.” 

“ Oh, everything’s something. I hain’t seen no 
call to go down on my marrer-bones yet, though. 
You allays did slop over at nothing, Nate.” 


6 4 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ Oh, but what’s the use o’ bein’ so everlastingly 
cranky and onreasonable ? ” 

“ I ain’t onreasonable. I say it’s you’re that, when 
you’re so pleased with the least thing. See here ! 
Did you ever see a big boss that would go halvers 
with his men in flush times, and of his own notion 
pay ’em extry? No, you never did. But when the 
fires are mostly out, oh ! then we must live on half 
wages and be thunderin’ thankful to git that. I say 
there ain’t one o’ them that cares a copper cent for 
one of us, ’cept just for what he can git outen us. 
I’m blessed if I believe they even think of us as men 
at all — just lump us off with the machinery, like. 
One man, one blowpipe, one marver — and the man 
least ’count of all.” 

The other chuckled softly, then waved his hand 
towards a group of shapely cottages off at the right. 

“ When you get into one o’ them new houses, with 
a piazzer acrost the front, and plenty of windows, 
and a grass plot, and see Lucy washin’ dishes at the 
little white sink with the hot and cold water runnin’ 
free out of silver fassets, and know you don’t have 
to tote your drinkin’-water a block, and ketch what 
rain-water you can in a bar’l, you won’t feel so gritty, 
Bill!” 

The other smiled somewhat sheepishly, pleased in 
spite of himself at the picture, but rallied to the 
challenge with — 

“ But what’s it all for ? That’s what gets me. I 
can’t and won’t pay no more rent, and that’s settled.” 

“ Don’t be allays looking fur traps, Bill.” 


THE HAPGOODS AND NATE. 65 

“ And don’t you be walkin’ into ’em open-eyed, 
Nate. No sir, you mark me! We ain’t got to 
heaven yet, and in this world o’ woe folks don’t go 
and spend a big lot o’ money just to make it easier 
fur the folks that’s under ’em — ’tisn’t nater.” 

“ It mayn’t be your nater, nor mine, but it may be 
some folkses. Well, argy as you may, the plage 
don’t look the same, now does it? D’ye mind the 
houses they’ve finished off ? Well they’re leveling 
off the yards around ’em, and seedin’ ’em to grass. 
Fact ! I see it myself. And ’nother thing. They’re 
filling up that old flat-iron place, where we used to 
cart rubbish to, and hauling trees to set out as they 
get it leveled down. If ’twa’n’t perfectly ridiculous 
I’d say ’twas to be a park — just imagine a park ! ” 

Both laughed gruffly, while a loiterer or two, just 
passing in or out the swing doors, who had stopped 
to listen, joined in. 

“ The thing ’t really is so,” observed one of these 
with his hand on the door, “ is that they’re a-goin’ to 
have a church. It’s so, Bill ! Ground was broke for 
it to-day, and I’ve seen the plan, and who do you 
think’s goin’ to boss the job ? ” 

“ Who ? Oh, some big architec’ from town, of 
course,” sneered Hapgood. 

“ Now, that’s where you’re off the track. It’s Gus 
Peters.” 

“ What ? Gus Peters ! ” 

Both men looked up, startled into real interest. 

“ How did it happen?” asked Nate. 

“ Don’t know. It seems he’s been studyin’ the 

5 


66 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

business, evenings and all. He’s allays mooning over 
plans and drawings ; and so they’ve give the job to 
him.” 

“ Well, I never ! ” cried Hapgood. “ That awk’ard 
— why, he can’t finish off a glass rod without break- 
in’ it, or burning himself ! ” 

“ No, he’s no blower ! ” laughed the other. “ Nary 
kind, I reckon. But they do say he’s great on draw- 
ing plans. I’m glad there’s something he can do, 
and I guess it was a lucky day for him when he burnt 
his arms so bad. We thought he’d have to go on 
the county, sure, with his hands so helpless, but he 
seems to ’ve got along first-rate.” 

“ Did he have an accident policy ? ” 

“Don’t know. Never heard of none. They say 
some relation or other’s been keepin’ him in cash. 
Have a drink, Bill ? ” 

“Well, don’t care if I do. It’s gettin’ thirsty 
weather these warm days.” 

Nate Tierney, the dark man, looked after him and 
chuckled again. 

“ It most generally is thirsty weather for Bill,” he 
ruminated alone as the men crowded within. “ Guess 
I’ll go along and take a look at Lucy and the babies. 
Kinder seems to me if I had a lot o’ nice little gals 
like that I wouldn’t git thirsty quite so often — but I 
don’t know. The stuff’s powerful comfortin’ when 
you git tired of rememberin’ — I’ve noticed that.” 

He strolled slowly down the lane-like street be- 
tween the rows of houses, like peas in a pod for 
sameness, and stopped, with a smile on his honest 


THE HAPGOODS AND NATE. 67 

face, as a little girl burst suddenly from the door 
of one and, closely pursued by another, just a step 
higher, ran shrieking with laughing fright right into 
his outstretched arms. 

“There! I’ve caught you now," he cried, then 
called to the pursuer. “ What you up to, Rufie, 
chasing Tilly so ? Do you want to scare her into 
an id jit ? ” 

Tilly, nestling in happy defiance within the shelter 
of his strong arm, tried to tell her woes, while Rufie 
dancing hotly about outside, declared in even shriller 
tones that Tilly deserved a slap and should get it, 
adding invitations to the younger girl to come out 
and see if she wouldn’t, which were of doubtful per- 
suasiveness. At this moment Lucy appeared in the 
doorway, the little baby in her arms and a larger one 
clinging to her skirts, to look anxiously and angrily 
after her younger sisters. 

“ I’ve got ’em safe, Lucy,” called Nate, restrain- 
ing his laughing captive and grasping at the other 
girl, “ I’ll bring in the pris’ners — don’t you worry ! 
Now, girls, be good, can’t ye? What did Tilly do, 
Rufie, that makes you so fierce after her? ” 

“ Stole my ribbon, the little ” 

“ Eh, eh ! Stole is a big word for young lips,” 
interrupted the man, while the accused protested, 

“ I didn’t neither! I was just lookin’ at it to see 
if ’twould match my new dress a lady guv me.” 

“ Oh, looking ! ” was Rufie’s sneering rejoinder. 
“ Where is it now ? Didn’t I see you tuck it in 
your pocket, you thief o’ the ” 


68 JOYCE'S INVESTMENT. 

“ Sh— h ! That’s not nice talk for a pretty gal 
like you, Rufie. Don’t call names like a hoodlum. 
Where’s the ribbon, Tilly?” 

“ There, you old stingy ! ” bringing it forth with 
a flirt, to slap it across her sister’s face, at which the 
later snatched it eagerly with a few choice epithets, 
which flowed as easily from her young lips as if she 
had been ages old in sin. 

Nate looked from one to the other, and the amused 
smile died out of his face. 

“ I don’t like you when you’re that way, girls,” 
he said in a hopeless tone. “ See how you worry 
sister ! ” for Lucy was calling fretfully, 

“ I do wish you two could be still one second ! 
Tommy was asleep, and baby almost, when you 
began screeching like a fire engine and racing and 
slamming through the house — where’s pa, Nate ? ” 

“ Pa? Oh, he — he’s around uptown some’ers.” 

“ I s’pose ‘ some’ers’ means up to Lon’s, as usual,” 
snapped the girl bitterly. “ He might better live 
there and be done with it.” 

She was a slight creature, too pale and worn for 
even the natural prettiness of youth, but her large, 
lovely eyes suggested that in a more fortunate en- 
vironment she might have been described as beauti- 
ful, by that stretch of imagination which chroniclers 
of the great are allowed. Many a so-called beauty 
of high caste has shown less natural endowment than 
did poor Lucy, but dragging care had wiped out the 
life and sparkle until, no one thought of her as at- 
tractive, even — only pathetic. 


THE HAPGOODS AND NATE. 69 

The man let go of the squabbling children to lift 
the fretting baby from her weary arms, and followed 
her into the unkempt room, which made almost the 
sole scene in her onerous life. 

“You ain’t got your dishes done yet, either; 
have you, child? ” he asked in sympathizing tones. 
“Well, well, I’ll keep the youngsters while you red 
things up. Here, girls, you come now and help 
sister, while I ’tend baby, and we ’ll have things 
comfortable in a jiffy. Let’s all try and be good to- 
gether.” 

The admonition proved effectual. Soon the girls 
were quietly at work, and the little baby’s startled 
eyes closed beneath the influence of the gentle 
lullaby crooned by this rough-looking man, from 
whom some dainty women might have shrunk in 
fear, had they met him on the public street. When 
the little one was safely deposited in his wooden 
cradle, the other baby, scarce two years older, being 
consigned to an uncomfortable nest between restless 
Rufie and Tilly, in a bed scarcely wide enough for 
them, the tired oldest sister dropped flown on the 
door-step near kind old Nate, who sat tilted back 
against the house wall, the legs of his wooden chair 
boring deep holes in the sandy soil. 

“You’re pretty tired, ain’t ye?” he asked with 
strong sympathy. “ It do sorter seem as if you had 
more’n your share sometimes, Lucy — it do, certain 

I ” 

sure ! 

“ I’d just give up if ’twa’n’t for you and Marry,” 
she returned wearily, crouching in a forlorn heap, 


70 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

with elbows on knees and chin in palms. “It’s hard 
enough for women that’s got their own young ones, 
and can mind ’em and make ’em mind. I can’t do 
nothing with ours, and when I go to pa he just gets 
cross and lights out. And then he comes home — 
well, you know how. He hit me with a stick, last 
night.” 

Nate’s strong teeth came together with a click. 

“ He did ? The old ” His sentence ended in a 

mutter. 

“ Oh, you can curse him” — she laughed drearily — 
“ but what good does it do ? It don’t take the ache 
out o’ that welt on my arm and back any. The 
skin’s broke and it smarts.” 

She began to cry in a slow, patient way. 

“ It’s queer I don’t get used to it,” she said pres- 
ently, for Nate had not tried to answer, but was 
puffing like a locomotive over wet rails at his stub of 
a pipe. “ I ought to by this time, but I don’t. I 
s’pose it’s because when pa’s good he’s real good, and 
so kind it makes it hurt all the more when he’s off. 
Oh dear! ” She gave a long sigh, pitifully unyouth- 
ful in its depth of misery. “ I was ’most glad when 
ma got through with it all, and could rest and look 
so sort of peaceful in her coffin. But I dunno. She 
kept more offen me than I knew of, I guess, and it’s 
growin’ worse all the time.” 

Nate started up, letting his chair fall back with 
such force as to threaten total extinction to its 
legs. 

“ It’s a sin and shame, and I know it ! ” he said in 


THE HAPGOODS AND NATE. 


7i 


his deepest voice. “ But you keep up your courage, 
Lucy. When things ’gets to the bottom they’re 
bound to go up again, for they never stand 
still.” 

He stood up and knocked his pipe clean against 
the wooden chair seat with vigorous thumps that 
seemed to relieve him, and started towards the 
street. 

“ Where you going ? ” asked Lucy remonstrantly. 
“ I didn’t mean to nag at you, Nate.” 

“ Don’t I know it ? And what if you did ? Guess 
I’m big enough to stand it. You just talk to me all 
you feel like ; but see here, little girl, I wouldn’t be 
talkin’ to nobody else — I wouldn’t.” 

“ Not to Marry ? ” 

“ Oh well, that French woman don’t so much mat- 
ter, ’cause most folks wouldn’t understand even if 
she tried to tattle, and I guess she don’t. But not 
to Mis’ Hemphill — she’s a most su’prisin’ gossip, ye 
know — nor to the Murfrees, nor Flahertys, nor no- 
body. These is fam’ly affairs, Lucy, and they ain’t 
for public ears. I’m going down to Lon’s now, and 
your pa’ll get home soon — very soon. I’ll see to 
that,” grimly. “ Now, good night, and don’t you 
shed another tear, will ye ? ” 

He patted her shoulder kindly as he stepped 
past her, and Lucy looked up with grateful eyes. 

“ If he’s off, Nate, will you come with him?” she 
whispered fearfully. 

“ Bet yer life ! ” was the emphatic answer as, he 
lumbered away on great clumping shoes, true knight 


72 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 


as any that used to ride away on a horse just as 
clumsily arrayed in armor, and perhaps that romantic 
rider was no better equipped in mind or heart than 
this glass-blower of the nineteenth century. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


LITTLETON REVIEWED. 

There never was a truth more tersely expressed 
than in the vulgar old proverb, “ Money makes the 
mare go.” Before Joyce’s energy and Joyce’s dollars 
work progressed with rapid strides, and Littleton, as 
seen on a certain June morning of that year, would 
never have suggested the bare, ugly collection of 
buildings she had visited the March before. They 
had turned the flat sandy plain into a grassy park, 
with little cottages of picturesque exterior set down 
all over it at random, apparently, for they faced in 
all directions ; while the green-bordered highways 
wound in and out among them, like satin ribbon 
with a velvet edge. Even the Works, themselves, 
were in the midst of a level lawn, and that part 
which had been seamed and gullied with footpaths 
winding about among heaps of sand, or unsightly 
refuse of fruit and broken glass, was now neatly paved 
wherever there was no opportunity for verdure to 
grow. 

The two long rows of ugly houses were no more. 
They had been disintegrated, so to speak ; some 
turned this way, some that, and some removed alto- 
gether. On those retained for use additions had been 


74 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 


built, verandas added, windows enlarged, and many 
conveniences planned within doors. Trees and vines 
had also been planted outside, and the inevitable grass- 
seed sown broadcast. The men had a joke among 
themselves that young Early had been obliged to 
take a seed-store on a debt, and was thus disposing 
of his stock. The “ flat-iron,” once watched with a 
wondering hope, had become a park in truth, the 
young trees growing healthily in the open space upon 
which the houses looked, while flower-beds were all 
abloom. Here and there were benches by the broad 
walks, and at the narrower end a light wire fence 
guarded a considerable space, over which was set the 
sign, 

“ Children’s Play-ground.” 

Here the turf could not be so well kept, for there 
were swings, teeters, small man-power merry-go- 
rounds, and an enticing pond of wading depth, where 
fleets might be sailed in summer, skates made to 
glide in winter. 

At one side a great archway opened into a long 
and wide covered way, or viaduct in its original sense, 
where were more swings and trapeze bars, and here 
the little ones could play on rainy days. This arched 
tunnel led from the park to a school-house, so pleas- 
ant in appearance that every bright window and 
graceful stairway seemed to extend an invitation to 
the passing child. 

Within were tinted walls with tempting lengths of 
blackboard, charming colored prints hung up in artis- 


LITTLETON REVIEWED. 


7 5 


tic disarray, with globes in the corners, modeling 
tables in convenient lights, a piano near the rostrum, 
and the neatest of chairs and desks. 

Rufie and Tilly sat in each of these separately, 
and declared, “ if it wasn’t for the studying they’d 
like to live there right along.” Mrs. Hemphill, 
Rachel’s mother, also perambulating through with 
great curiosity, and three small children clinging to 
her skirts, pronounced it “ fine enough, goodness 
knows, but wait till you see them teachers! ” This 
rather damped the children’s enthusiasm, for by Mrs. 
Hemphill’s manner one would have imagined those 
teachers little less than monsters. 

What caused greatest comment, however, was a 
stately building just opposite the point of the flat- 
iron, which brought it very close to the center of the 
town, and but a stone’s-throw from the little church, 
which was the embodied dream of Gus Peters, turning 
pain into beauty, and making the scars of his burned 
arms and hands only a record of glorious days and 
heavenly nights, because at last he had been enabled 
to put to practical use the talent that was in 
him. 

As the plaintive song of the teakettle may have 
been but the wail of imprisoned power, until Watts 
set it free to work out its glorious destiny, so the 
boy’s surly ways had been his own protest against a 
destiny that seemed enchaining him to an uncon- 
genial work, for which he brought neither love nor 
patience. In more congenial labor his soul had 
broadened, his heart grown warmer, his very looks 


76 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

had improved — But we were talking of the great 
house near the church. This stately pile, with broad 
halls from which lofty rooms opened on either side, 
might be a private dwelling on a large scale, to be 
sure ; yet, instead of chambers abo've, there was one 
very large apartment with two or three smaller rooms 
off, that were being fitted up as a kitchen and dress- 
ing-rooms. This building proved a puzzle to these 
work-people. They could not find any use for it, as 
they strolled by twos and fours through its unfinished 
expanse. Nate Tierney suggested that young Early 
was coming here to live, and that this great upper 
chamber was to be his ball-room, where he could have 
his routs and banquets, the kitchen being in handy 
proximity. Most of the villagers accepted this ex- 
planation, as nothing better offered, and commented 
either in pious disdain, or honest envy. 

“ He’d have to give big parties to fill this,” re- 
marked Hapgood, slipping clumsily about on the 
polished floor, “ and what’s he got that stage at 
t’other end for? ” 

“Why, the musicianers, of course,” declared Nate. 
“ Jim ! but it’s fine, ain’t it ? ” 

“Umph! How some folks can fling theirselves. 
It makes you feel ’t ain’t much use of tryin’, don’t 
it?” 

“Tryin’ for what ? ” laughed Nate. “ Big parties ? 
They’re welcome to all the fun they can get out en 
them, Bill. How’d you and I look slidin’ and stum- 
blin’ around over that floor of glass, anyhow? No 
siree ! Give me that neat little porch you’ve got, 


LITTLETON REVIEWED. 


77 

with Lucy’s vine a-growin’ ’round it. It’ll beat this 
all hollow ! ” 

“ Oh well, that ain’t bad, to be sure,” allowed Hap- 
good with some reluctance. 

“ Bad ! I should say not.” 

“Well, I’ll own up, Nate, it is an improvement, 
and Lucy is as chipper over it as can be. To have 
a settin’-room, too, besides the kitchen, tickles her 
most to death. But what gets me is the ’lectric 
liglits and no extry charge.” 

Hapgood’s face, which always reddened easily, was 
now a dazzling hue. He went on excitedly, 

“You jest turn ’em on, so — and there you are, 
light as day and no charges — same old rent and lights 
flung in ! ” 

“ And heatin’ too, Bill. You’ll sense the meaning 
o’ that more, next winter. Think of nateral gas for 
us fellows, and cute little stoves and grates, where 
you can jest turn it on and off with a thumbscrew. 
No wood splittin’ and sawin’, no luggin’ baskets of 
coal, no dust, no smoke, no charges. My ! Bill, it’s 
’most too good to b’lieve.” 

“ Look out we don’t trow too soon, Nate. It’s 
less’n a month sense we’ve had it that way, and you 
don’t know ; they may tuck it onto us ” 

“ Dalton says not.” 

“ Perhaps he don’t know. Did you ask him ? ” 

“Yes, and he said the new boss was a — a philand- 
roper, or something. He seemed kind of tickled 
over it, too, as if he thought it was a kind of tom- 
foolery, or joke, that mightn’t last.” 


78 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ If it’s a freak, no more it will.” 

“ Oh well, we’ll get the good of it while it does. 
You can’t live any more’n a day to a time, so what’s 
the use worryin’ ? Summer’s here, and the place is 
gettin’ purtier every day, and it just does a feller’s 
heart good to watch them youngsters racin’ and 
shoutin’ in that old flatiron — ’member how we felt 
it never could be a park, and for us ? But you see 
’tis, and a special place for the young ’uns, too. That 
ought to clinch the thing, I’m sure ! ” 

So they wondered, questioned, and commented, 
but never thought of connecting these sunny marvels 
with the handsome girl, who was occasionally seen 
strolling about, either with the older woman, who 
had been ticketed as her old-maid aunt, or with Mr. 
Dalton, supposed by all to be some distant relative. 
Joyce had been very careful to act through agents, 
and though the workmen sometimes thought she 
showed a “ heap of curiosity,” they never imagined 
that it was her little head which planned and origi- 
nated every detail of the work they carried on. Not 
that Joyce could really make a plan — that was be- 
yond her. But she and Madame Bonnivel, together, 
instructed the intelligent architects employed, even 
down to the minute contrivances for saving work 
and time, that were introduced into the cottages. 

Even Gus Peters had never fathomed the mystery 
of his own surprising good fortune. Before night 
had fallen, on the day he was burned, an elderly 
woman of serene visage had appeared in his bachelor 
den, and declaring herself a nurse sent by friends. 


LITTLETON REVIEWED. 


79 


had proceeded to make him more comfortable than 
he had believed possible, with those aching members 
touching up every nerve to torture. 

She had served him with delicate food and drink, 
dressed his burns with softest touch, given him some 
soothing potion, and prepared a daintily clean bed 
for him to rest in. When he awoke, after the first 
refreshing sleep in many hours, she was still there, 
and the room seemed like another place, so restfully 
clean and orderly had she made it. Gus looked 
around with contented eyes, which finally fell upon 
her and lingered there. For the minute he half sus- 
pected it was still a dream, and feared to really 
waken. But, catching his gaze, she smiled and said 
in an unmistakably wide-awake voice, 

“You had a good sleep, didn’t you? The worst 
is over now, and you’ll soon mend. It won’t be 
long now to the itching stage.” 

She laughed pleasantly and went on with her work 
in a placid way. Gus discovered, with a little shock 
of surprised delight, that she was darning a sock — 
could it be his sock? He asked the question with 
an eagerness that amused her. 

“ Of course. Why. Are you afraid I’ll spoil it ? ” 

The humor of this made him laugh also, for the 
idea of spoiling socks that were little but holes would 
make any one smile who felt warm, rested, and free 
from pain. 

“ How did you happen to come ? ” he asked again, 
a bit timidly. 

“ I was sent,” she returned. “ It’s my business — 


8o 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

to nurse those who are not rich. It makes a different 
profession of it, where one must often be house- 
keeper and cook, as well as attendant on the sick, 
you see.” 

“Yes, indeed. You’re good at keeping house, I 
reckon. It must have looked a mountain to you to 
get order out of the mess here.” 

“I’ve seen worse places. Now, it’s about five 
o’clock and I’ll give you some breakfast, and dress 
your arms. Then, if you feel comfortable, I’ll take 
a nap myself.” 

“To be sure. And are you going to stay all 
day ? ” wistfully. 

“ Of course, and to-morrow too, perhaps.” 

She folded her work in deft fashion, putting 
thimble and thread away in a bag which, in time, 
became something of a marvel to Gus, who declared 
a man never wanted anything but she’d find it in 
that bag ; then went about preparing breakfast, and 
soon Gus was sipping what seemed like nectar to the 
poor fellow, who was used to decoctions that might 
have a name, but neither looked nor tasted like any 
known drink. 

“ Well, that is coffee ! ” he cried gratefully. “ Say, 
Mrs.” 

“ Keep,” she interposed quietly. 

“ Mrs. Keep, I don’t like to be prying, but — but, 
you understand, I’m poor? I can’t pay much, and 
you’re way up in your business, I see. Perhaps ” 

She smiled in motherly fashion. 

“ Don’t bother your head about that. I am paid, 


LITTLETON REVIEWED. 


81 


and well paid. You are simply to take things as 
they come, and hurry to get well. I’m glad to see 
you can eat.” 

“ Eat ? It would be a queer man that couldn’t 
with such a breakfast before him ! I guess some 
fairy must have blessed my cradle when I was born. 
I never knew, before, I was heir to good luck. 
Well, there might be worse things than burned 
hands. Now do me up in fresh rags, Mother Keep, 
and you shall have as long a nap as you like. I 
won’t even sneeze if you say not.” 

Mother Keep stayed a week, and left Gus well on 
the way to a perfect cure, with no scars remaining as 
a record of his awkwardness. She often talked with 
the lad, finding it easy to probe him. He talked 
ardently of his one love, the study of architecture, 
showing her many plans, and explaining how he 
saved every penny to spend it in lessons at the 
Institute, and in materials for this absorbing work. 
One of these plans — that of a small church, simple 
in design, yet with real elegance of outline and con- 
venience of arrangement, impressed her greatly. 

“ I wish you would let me take this away with 
me,” she said. “ I will return it after a little. * 

Gus, who would have almost taken off one of the 
tast-healing arms for her, had she asked it, assented 
at once, inwardly hoping she would not soil the 
beautiful drawing, nor, womanlike, forget all about 
returning it. When she left, it went with her, and 
Gus missed both the woman and the drawing that 
evening. He might indeed have been really melan- 
6 


82 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

choly, but some of the boys came in and rather drove 
away the gentler thoughts of the past few days in 
their noisy mirth and "games. 

Still, something of that gentle influence lingered. 
Gus tempted Rufie with a penny, and coaxed her 
into brushing up the floor now and then, while he 
took to hanging up his discarded garments, rather 
than dropping them in a heap. It was a few even- 
ings later, and he had begun using the least burned 
hand to some purpose, when a strange man called, 
and asked if he ever submitted plans in competition. 
Peters rather mournfully confessed that he had, but 
with little success, except in one instance, when he 
had taken a prize in an amateur competition. After 
a talk on such matters the stranger mentioned, as if 
incidentally, that plans were requested for a small 
church about to be built in Littleton; why did not 
Peters compete ? Instantly the young man’s thought 
flew to his drawings, now in Mother Keep’s posses- 
sion. If he had those he might venture. But could 
he not reproduce them ? Oh ! if his hands were only 
well. If Mother Keep would but remember what 
was of so little consequence to her, but so much to 
him. 

He lay awake long, that night, dreaming dreams 
of future success, but awoke to a disheartening sense 
of pain and impotence. There were no letter-car- 
riers in the village, and Gus seldom had reason for 
frequenting the post-office unless on a bright day, to 
meet the girls. As he should not begin work to-day, 
however, he thought he would stroll in that direc- 


LITTLETON REVIEWED. 


83 


tion. The office, a mere box in one corner of a pro- 
vision store, was presided over by a woman in spec- 
tacles, the wife of the store-keeper. As Gus stood 
leaning against the side of the door, one arm still in 
bandages and a sling, a figure entered, passing him 
quickly by, as if intent on business. He recognized 
Miss Lavillotte, who had been so kind to him the day 
he was burned, and waited patiently till she should 
turn from the little office window, and give him 
greeting. 

Presently she did turn ; then, after a quick, intent 
look, advanced smilingly. 

“You are much better?” She asked eagerly. 
“•You look almost well.” 

“ I am, thank you ! I had fine care, you see.” 

“ Did you ? That was good ! ” 

“ I should say ! The queer thing is, I don’t know 
where she came from, nor where she’s gone to.” 

“ Who ? ” 

“ Mother Keep — as I call her. She was fine ! 
She’d cure anything, I reckon.” 

Joyce laughed, her eyes shining. 

“ And she really saved you some suffering ? ” 

'“ She made me almost enjoy it ! ” laughing 
blithely. “ I wish she’d write to me. I’d like to 
know her address.” 

“ Perhaps she has. Have you inquired ? ” 

“ Goodness ! no. I never thought to. Do you 
suppose she would ? ” 

“ I’m not supposed to know much about her, but 
if, as you say, she was kind I should think she’d feel 


84 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

enough interested to write and ask how you are get- 
ting along without her. Shouldn’t you ? ” 

“ Possibly. I’m going to inquire, anyhow. Say, 
Mrs. Blake, got anything for Augustus F. Peters 
this morning ? ” 

The woman slid a small package of letters through 
her fingers, as she answered, 

“ Yes, two things if I ain’t mistaken. Here’s the 
letter, and I’ll find the roll in a minute.” 

“ Aha ! Good ! I was afraid she’d forget that. 
It must be my drawings.” 

“Your drawings?” asked Joyce interestedly. 
“ Are you an artist, then ? ” 

“ No. But I’d like to be an architect. They are 
some plans of a little church that I’ve been working 
on a long time. I never expected to make anything 

out of them, only practice, but ” 

He hesitated and Joyce looked up, inquiring and 
sympathetic. He gave a little choke and continued : 

“Well, they say young Early means to build a 
church here and has called for plans and specifications. 
Guess it’s advertised in some of the papers, but I 
don’t take any. So I thought I’d submit mine — 
though it won’t be any use, I presume. Still, it’s 
worth trying.” 

“ It’s always worth trying. I certainly should. 
And, do you know, I’m a bit interested in the study of 
architecture myself, and have some books. Wouldn’t 
you like to look them over, now you’re unable to 
work ? You’re welcome to them for as long as you 
like to study them.” 


LITTLETON REVIEWED. 


85 


“ Wouldn’t I like them ! If you knew how I’ve 
wanted to get hold of such things, but they cost aw- 
fully. I’ll be careful, Miss Lavillotte, and put strong 
paper covers on them. You’re sure you’d just as 
soon let me have them ? ” 

He was like a boy in his enthusiastic joy. 

“ Perfectly sure. Will you come around, or shall 
I send them ? Come to think, I’ll do the latter 
when Gilbert has the carriage out, this afternoon. 
They are large and heavy. And don’t fail to send in 
your plans ; I shall be anxious to hear if you succeed.” 

She tripped out, while Gus watched her, an odd 
expression on his face. Then turning to the woman 
who was holding out the precious roll, he said 
bluntly,- 

“ It don’t cost a thing to give a man a kind and 
hopeful word, but how many girls like that would do 
it ? She’s a lady ! ” 

He walked away as if on air. He was no longer 
the awkward lout, stolidly working at uncongenial 
toil. He had a hope, a purpose, a plan, and his 
sometimes sullen face was transformed into manly 
alertness and strength. 

From that time on he forgot his burns, and Nature 
took them in hand, healing the broken flesh in her 
most cle^n cut fashion. Scarcely a scar remained, 
and on the day he received the brief notice that his 
plans were accepted it seemed as if the scars fell from 
his soul also, leaving it cleaner, stronger, better. He 
had found his rightful work, and that is inspiration 
to any man. 


CHAPTER IX. 


DAN. 

FACTORY hours were over, and Dan Price issued 
from the heated place, his old coat over his arm, and 
his neck bared to what little breeze there was, as he 
turned his moist face in the direction of home. 
There was no loitering among the boys, no waiting 
for any special girl. 

Dan had no boon companions, no home ties, no 
courting to carry on. He “ kept company ” with no 
one but himself. The one room he called home was 
in one of the houses still untouched by the changes 
going on, a remnant of the once ugly row, now 
largely broken into, but not wholly destroyed. 

For, with that perversity of inanimate things 
which attends every large enterprise to retard in every 
possible manner, through bad weather, the non- 
arrival of needed materials, loss, breakage, accident, 
and the “ soldiering ” of the workmen, many hin- 
drances had arisen, and while wonders had been ac- 
complished much remained to be done. But what 
had tried Joyce almost beyond endurance was to find 
that her greatest opposition came from the people 
she was trying to benefit. Often she found herself, 
through her builders, butting against a wall of 


DAN. 87 

human perversity and stupidity fairly insurmount- 
able. 

More than one family, and these in the poorest 
homes, utterly refused to allow of any improve- 
ments, resisting the entrance of the workmen, as if 
this were an armed incursion of some enemy. In 
vain Dalton explained that it was only to make 
them more comfortable, that it should not cost them 
a penny, that the discomforts of a week, a month, 
would change their barracks into modern homes. 
They sullenly defied him to interfere, and would 
none of these “ new-fangled notions ” he tried to 
describe in glowing terms. 

“ ’Tain’t fair, boss, and we ain’t going to stand it ! ” 
shouted one man Trom his doorstep, rotting from 
the misdirected leakage of the roof. “ If we keep 
the rent paid up you’ve no right to disturb us in our 
own homes. If we want changes, or improvements, 
we’ll let you know quick enough. Till we do just 
let us alone, can’t ye ? It’s all we ask.” 

Even Dalton, between the Scylla of Joyce’s deter- 
mination and the Charybdis of her people’s per- 
versity, sometimes lost his temper entirely, and could 
do nothing but anathematize them for a “ pesky set 
of fools” right to their faces. So a part of the old 
buildings still remained, and in Bachelor’s Row, 
where the rooms were mostly let to men without 
families, lived Dan, forlornest of all in the block. It 
seemed, to-day, as if the bare, paintless shanties 
looked worse than ever, by contrast with their im- 
proved surroundings, while an air of neglect and dis- 


88 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

heartenment lingered about them, impalpable but as 
plainly perceived as an odor. Naked, shutterless, 
porchless, and hot, they stood in the blazing after- 
noon sunshine, as obtrusive as the wart on a man’s 
nose, and as ugly. When Dan’s dark gaze was up- 
lifted to them he scowled fiercely, and muttered, 

“ Out of the frying-pan into the fire ! I can never 
stand it inside, to-night. Guess I’ll take to the 
woods.” 

He stepped from the small front platform directly 
into a room which smelled strongly of leather and 
tobacco, where two oldish men with grizzled beards 
were sitting — one in an apron, cobbling shoes on the 
bench by the one window ; the other, evidently a 
caller, close by the open door, reading something 
from a newspaper and gesticulating rather wildly. 
A sardonic gleam flashed across Dan’s handsome 
face as he passed them with a nod, and disappeared 
in the room beyond. This was his own, where he 
stinted himself in other ways that he might keep it 
unshared, thus insuring the strict privacy he courted. 

It was very small and its boards were bare, but he 
had saved space by making himself a bunk, in lieu 
of a bed, which, h,ung on hinges, could be hookpd up 
out of the way when not in use. For the rest, a 
couple of chairs, a chest of drawers, and a table with 
a little oil stove for cooking purposes composed the 
meagre furnishings. But each bit of wall space was 
occupied in a manner that astonished one at first 
glance, for up to the height of four feet were shelves 
partly filled with books and magazines, while above 


DAN. 


89 


them, reaching to the ceiling, were fastened pine 
cases protected by glass, in which were collections 
of butterflies and beetles arranged in a manner that 
awoke admiration even in those who knew nothing 
of entomology. But to-day the room was stifling, 
and even the stiff beetles on their pins seemed to 
droop in the fierce glare of the sunshine streaming 
in. 

With an impatient “ Whew-w ! ” Dan went hastily 
about, selecting such things as he needed for his 
impromptu camp of a night, and soon was ready ; a 
blanket tightly rolled around net and tackle, and 
some food in his dinner-pail. 

Coming out into the yard through the rear door, 
he stepped under a rough lean-to of a shed, and soon 
emerged with his wheel, which, being geared to suit 
his peculiar form, made him look almost like a carica- 
ture when mounted. He fastened his paraphernalia 
in place, steered it around in front and was just 
mounting when the man with the newspaper issued 
from the cobbler’s room, talking loudly, 

“ I tell you, it’s no good ! Toil and moil every day 
from your first breath to your last, and what good 
does it bring you ? Independence? Humph! You 
are as much a slave as any nigger bought for cash. 
Comfort? A. heap of that ! You’d be better housed 
and fed in any county-house. Respect ? Get your- 
self charged with a- crime and see whether it’s any 
good to have been an honest, hard-working man. 
I tell you ” 

He stopped and Dan, who had buckled his last 


9 o 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

strap, looked up to see why. He divined instantly, 
and that same sardonic smile passed over his face 
once more. Mr. Dalton was approaching, and the 
speaker, but now climbing the heights of oratory 
with the paper flourished like a standard before him, 
shrank suddenly into himself and seemed to fall 
away, as if he would annihilate himself if he could. 
Finding that impossible he sank into his chair and 
began a vague remark about the shoe his host was 
half-soling, all which the latter took as a matter-of- 
course, not seeming to notice, even. 

Dan pedaled away, laughing harshly. 

“Fool!” he muttered. “One would think, to 
hear him, he was the only one not a coward amongst 
us, when the truth is he’s the biggest one of all. 
Old Tonguey Murfree would cringe to the devil for 
ten cents worth of patronage, and then cheat him 
out of half of it, if he could.” 

He made his wheel fly in a sort of frenzy of dis- 
gust, but the fresh wind, sweeping his hot face like 
the besom of peace, soon drove away this temporary 
chagrin, bringing to him the best comfort life gave 
in those days — the gentle influence of Nature. For, 
just in proportion as Dan shunned humanity he 
courted her, and though he felt her relentlessness 
through every fibre of his suffering being, he felt 
her charm as well, and could not quite resist it. 

He rode fast and far, till the level road, through a 
turn or two, brought him into a well-wooded tract 
where bluffs and willow clumps suggested running 
streams. He left the road and, dismounting, guided 


DAN. 


9 1 


his wheel between projecting roots and stumps, down 
through a winding cowpath which led to a lick below. 
Here, discarding shoes and stockings he waded the 
stream, and entered a charming dell where nature had 
been lavish of adornment. In fact, one might almost 
have thought time and human ingenuity had assisted 
nature, for a wild grapevine was so linked from 
bough to bough between two tall trees as to form a 
perfect bower, and as if to protect the opening from in- 
trusive onlookers, a sort of chevaux-de-frise of tall 
ferns waved their graceful banners up to meet the 
drooping lengths of vine waving from the tree. 

Toward this bower Dan bent accustomed steps, 
sliding his wheel into a copse of young oaks that hid 
it completely, then parting the growing ferns, as if 
he needed no guide to tell him just where the well- 
concealed opening might be. As he, stooping, en- 
tered, the graceful fronds sprang back to position, 
like sentinels who have separated an instant to let 
the master pass, but quickly resume place to guard 
his hidden presence well. 

Inside, Dan glanced about and saw with pleased 
eyes the undisturbed, familiar aspect of the spot. In 
one corner was a large heap of dry leaves, which 
might have drifted there last Fall, but did not, and in 
any case made an excellent bed for a camper. In 
another, an innocent-looking tree-root projected 
from the earth. With a quick jerk Dan dislodged it, 
showing an excavation below, which had been neatly 
walled in with stones. Removing the largest one, 
at the bottom, he disclosed a rough box sunken in the 


9 2 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

soil, from the compartments of which he drew forth 
all the articles he needed for his simple supper — an 
old coffee-pot, an alcohol lamp with its attendant rub- 
ber-corked bottle, a frying-pan of small dimensions, 
a can of shaved bacon, salt, pepper, and so on. 

By this time a look of peace, yes, even a sort of 
tame joy, had replaced Dan’s gloomy expression, and 
one could see that, in a way, he was happy. Getting 
out his fishing-rod from its enveloping blanket he 
presently emerged, recrossed the stream, and soon 
could be seen pushing out into the midst of it, pol- 
ing an old punt up stream. Anchoring presently in 
a small cove where the water was deep and cool, he 
sat in silent watchfulness, occasionally jerking out a 
perch bass, sometimes a pickerel, but for the most part 
so still he might have been the occupant of a “ painted 
boat upon a painted ” stream. Yet all the time the 
soft influences of the hour and place were weaving 
their spell about him. The sun was now only a 
great half-round of red upon the horizon’s line, and 
way up to the zenith tiny clouds that were like sheep 
in a meadow caught here and there its scarlet tinge. 
It was very still, yet all alive with woodsy sounds. 
Now a belated cicada swung his rattle as if in a fright, 
next a bull-frog, with hoarse kerchug ! took a header 
for his evening bath. Once, later on, when the sha- 
dows were falling, a sleepy thrush settled upon a twig 
near by, and sang his good-night in sweetest tones. 
About this time he heard a farm-boy calling anxious- 
ly through the neighboring wood for the lost Sukey 
of the herd, and at times a dusty rumble announced 


DAN. 


93 


a wagon jolting homeward over the unseen road 
away to his right. Dan’s sense of satisfaction was 
possibly heightened by this mingling of nearness 
and remoteness. He had all. life at his ear, so to 
speak, yet held it back by his will, as one might lis- 
ten at the receiver of a telephone and yet refuse to 
yield up one-’s own presence by opening the lips in 
response. And here there was no “ central ” to cut 
him off, though he held the situation long. 

At last, in the soft dusk, which wrapped him like 
a mother’s arms, he poled noiselessly down stream, 
secured the punt, dressed his fish with the dexterity 
of a practised woodsman, and washing them neatly 
in the river, waded back to his camp. Again the 
root handle was lifted, the alcohol lamp filled and 
lighted, and while the coffee boiled over that, the 
fish, laid on the slices of bacon, were set to sizzle 
comfortably over a tiny fire of sticks and leaves built 
in the stony hollow. Dan was hungry and ate with 
keen relish. He had produced knife, fork and spoon 
from his sunken cupboard, but his frying-pan served 
for both plate and platter, and the cover of his din- 
ner-pail for cup. The bread and doughnuts he had 
brought from home helped out the repast, which had 
all the relish and wholesomeness of the out-door meal 
which has been foraged for by personal effort. 

Oddly enough in these tobacco-ridden days, Dan 
did not smoke. When he had neatly cleaned away 
the remnants of his feast and replaced root and stone, 
he spread his blanket out under the stars, and tuck- 
ing one rolled-up corner under his head for a pillow, 


94 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

lay long into the night, gazing up into the heavens 
which formed his only roof. 

It was a moonlighted evening, and the fleecy clouds 
we have noted moved in and out of her path in a 
stately dance, with winning grace, as eastern Nautch 
girls might dance their way into the favor of a haughty 
sheik. 

Dan at first saw all, but reflected, nothing of this 
beauty in his thought. His animal nature satisfied, 
he craved nothing as yet. But presently memory 
and remorse knocked for admittance — the twain 
were seldom long banished. They sat like skeletons 
at every banquet. At a bound thought flew back 
to that day when his brother had fallen before his 
eyes. 

Dan groaned as the awful vision loomed before 
him. He saw again the trickling blood, the strange, 
astonished protest on that dying face, with its eyes 
turned up to his. That was what he could not bear 
— that Will should have believed he did it, even in 
carelessness. If the unspoken reproach of that last 
minute could be removed Dan felt he would be a 
free man once more. But that hung over him like a 
curse. 

“ I didn’t do it, Will ! ” he moaned half aloud. “ I 
wasn’t even fooling with the trigger, as you thought. 
If I’d been careless in that way — but I wasn’t. I 
never see a gun without thinking it may be loaded, 
and though we both believed that one wasn’t still I 
was careful. But it caught either in your sleeve or 
mine — nobody will ever know, and it killed you and 


DAN. 


95 


left me to live on. Who did it, Will? It wasn’t 
you ; it wasn’t me. Was it the devil, or was it God 
himself? What is that awful Something that makes 
things happen just when you’re guarding against 
’em ? For that’s what I was doing. I had just 
looked up to caution you when you pressed so close, 
and then came the stroke ! ” He groaned again, as 
if in physical pain, then presently went on in a moan- 
ing voice : “ Oh, Will, if you can hear me, believe 

me and not what other folks may say. They all 
believe it was me, but that I was so crazy over it 
I couldn’t bear to own up ; and the doctor bid 
them let me alone or I should go mad. But Will, 
it is not true. You must hear me, wherever you 
are. It is not true ! ” 

He broke into a passion of sobs, and rolling over, 
muffled his face in the blanket’s folds. Even in that 
solitude some living being might hear, and the 
thought that anyone should ever witness this agony 
of soul, should ever lay the lightest touch upon that 
sacred wound, was torture to him. 

Poverty, orphanage, and physical weakness had 
always set him apart, but while Will lived he had not 
greatly minded. He had kept in touch with his 
world through its greatest favorite, that handsome, 
witty brother ; and it had been the same when Will 
was praised, or courted, as if it had been himself. 
Death had torn from him the best part of himself, 
and as if this loss were not cruel enough simply as 
a loss, it had left behind the conviction that in dying 
that worshiped brother believed the one who would 


96 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

gladly have died for him to be his slayer. No wonder 
Dan moaned and writhed, incapable of comfort. No 
wonder he shunned everybody, knowing what they 
believed of him. 

No wonder he groped in black despair and could 
not yet look up, or listen to the voices of consolation 
that might have come to him in different moods. 

It was night for Dan in more senses than one. 


CHAPTER X. 


AT THE BONNIVELS’. 

The Bonnivels were at dinner, one evening, some- 
what before the events related in the past few pages, 
and were discussing in lively tones a long letter which 
had come from Leon that day — Leon Bonnivel, the 
absent son and brother who was in a ship of war off 
the South Atlantic coast. He had just been ad- 
vanced to a first lieutenancy, and the family were 
jubilant in consequence. 

For the Bonnivels had known hard times in their 
southern home, when Dorette and Leon were little, 
and his appointment to the Naval school had been 
the first lightening of their fortunes, Dorette’s mar- 
riage to an honest young fellow in a good situation 
the second. 

That Madame Bonnivel and Camille were never 
allowed to feel their dependence upon Mr. and Mrs. 
Larrimer Driscoll took from its bitterness, yet it was 
to Leon both looked as the family’s true head, by 
whose advancement all would certainly be gainers. 
They loved the spirited young soldier-sailor as help- 
less women do love their braves, who go out from them 
to fight the battles of life, and they watched his ca- 
reer with their hearts’ pendulums swinging between 
pride and dread — joy and alarm. 

7 


97 


98 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

Madame Bonnivel’s face was now radiant, while 
her sightless eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. Dorette 
looked placidly pleased, Larry kindly sympathetic, 
while Camille showed her delight in her rattling 
tongue and eager gestures. We must tell Joyce,” 
she cried, squeezing Dodo’s arm in a vain effort to 
express all she felt. “ She is as fond of him as we 
are. Maman, how old was she when the Earlys came 
to board with us ? ” 

“ About two, and the dearest baby ! ” answered 
Madame with readiness, for next to talking of Leon 
she loved to talk of Joyce. “ Her poor mother even 
then was marked for death, and when she passed 
away, during one of her husband’s frequent absences, 
I took her baby right into my arms and heart.” 

“ And Leon must have been about five then ? ” 

“ Half-past five, as he used to say, and Dorette 
here was seven. Such a houseful of babies ! ” 

“ Luckily I had not appeared on the scene then,” 
laughed Camille. “ I’m afraid I was not a welcome 
guest.” 

Her mother turned fond, reproving eyes upon her, 
while Dodo broke in between big mouthfuls of oat- 
meal and milk, 

“ But me was dere, jus’ de same. Me ’members all 
about it.” 

“ Oh, you remember more than the rest of us have 
forgotten ! ” cried her auntie, catching the child’s 
chubby arm and shaking little trills of merriment out 
of her, at which the young father exclaimed with 
mock savagery, 


i.ofc. 


AT THE BONNIVELS’. 


99 

“ Will you never leave that child alone, Gypsy ? 
You’re always squeezing or pinching her.” 

“ But I lubs her so ! ” with a shower of pats and 
punchings. “ I could eat her up.” 

“ Better stick to your dinner — it’s a good one ! 
My wife is chef of this establishment.” 

Dorette’s soft eyes met his in a fond, merry glance. 

“ Thank you, Larry ! You always appreciate good 
things.” 

“Don’t I, though! But go on, mother. You 
were telling us about the babies.” 

“You know it all as well as I. We loved little 
Joyce as our very own, and when her father took 
her away — for somehow he never liked us, I think 
because I once spoke too plainly about his neglect 
of his delicate wife — when he took her to a woman 
he had engaged to look after her, she moaned and 
cried in the most pitiful way, refusing all food and 
begging day and night for ‘ ma mere,’ as she had 
learned to call me. Nothing would pacify her, and 
at length in desperation he brought her back. We 
were poor then, but I did not receive her because of 
the board money he would pay ” 

“ Did you keep it in a ginger-jar, Mother?” put 
in Larry, with a chuckle. She caught his meaning 
quickly, and returned at once, 

“ I was about to add, because I knew from past 
experience there would be little of it to hoard, even 
in a ginger-jar. James Early was not as prompt a 
payer as collector,” dryly. “No, I took back my 
baby because we all missed her so, especially Leon, 


100 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

who had wailed all day and half the night, calling on 
‘ Doyce ! Doyce ! ’ even in his dreams, poor little 
man ! It was the end of the second day when Mr. 
Early, looking decidedly sheepish, reappeared with 
his little daughter — about this time, in fact. I can 
see, even now, the look of perfect rest and happiness 
upon her tear-stained little face as she nestled into 
my arms that evening, while Leon and you, Dorette, 
fairly radiant with joy, bent above her. I never saw 
one of you show one moment’s jealousy, which was 
a bit odd, for Joyce was an imperious baby, and ex- 
acted a great deal of my attention. But how charm- 
ing was her good-nature ! That night she sat throned 
on my knees, like a little princess, and patty-caked, 
threw kisses, went to mill and to meeting, and said 
over her whole short vocabulary of French and Eng- 
lish words, so gracious and lovely that even your 
studious father pushed back his books and papers to 
join the frolic. We were wonderfully happy that 
night ! I think the child is magnetic. She gives 
out her own happiness like electric sparks. She 
never can bottle it up and enjoy it selfishly.” 

“ And she stayed till she was fifteen ? ” 

“Yes. Then her father began to make money, 
and he made it ” 

“ Hand-over-fist,” interposed Larry. 

“ Exactly. And I never saw one so puffed up 
with pride and vain-glory. It would have been 
funny, only that he made us feel it so tragically. He 
tore Joyce away — the word is not an exaggeration 
for she fought him at every point and only yielded 


AT THE BONNIVELS’. 


IOI 


to positive compulsion. He put her into a fashion- 
able school and bade her have nothing more to do 
with those ‘ down-at-the-heel Bonnivels.’ It was a 
trifle hard after the 4ove and care we had lavished 
upon her.” 

“It was beastly ! ” muttered Larry between his 
shut teeth. “ Did he never give you even gratitude, 
let alone money ? ” 

“ No. He measured out a niggardly sum for her 
board, and gave it over with the air of munificently 
rewarding me. I would have refused to accept it, 
but your father was gone, then, and I nearly blind. 
I could not let my little ones suffer to gratify my 
own pride. I took it, but I dared not speak for fear 
I should say too much. I simply bowed my head 
in acknowledgment, and thanked God when he was 
gone, because I had been able to control myself ! ” 

“ But Joyce did not see that ? ” put in Dorette. 

“No, I am glad to say she did not. The scene 
with her had ended with her passionate rush to the 
carriage, where she was lying back on the seat half 
fainting amid her tears.” 

“ Oh, how cruel ! ” cried Camille, almost in tears 
herself. 

“And when you had gone blind through your 
constant embroidering to keep your little tribe to- 
gether — Joyce and all ! ” 

“ Never mind, dear ! Larry came then and saved 
us all.” 

She turned a sweet glance upon her son-in-law, 
which made him flush with pleasure. 


102 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ I don’t know about that saving process, mother. 
I’ve pretty often declared in my own mind that 
Dorette and you came along just in the nick of time 
to save me." 

“ Me too,” put in Dodo, insistent on general prin- 
ciples. 

“ And me ! ” added Camille, laughing and squeez- 
ing the baby afresh, her moods as quick to change 
as those of capricious April, always. 

“ Yes, the whole shirackety of you,” returned Larry, 
folding his napkin. And Joyce has made amends 
since, I’m sure.” 

“ Indeed she has, dear child ! ” 

“ But mother, even Joyce has never given ” 

“ Hush, Camille ! Don’t say it. Joyce knows we 
are entirely comfortable, and she has large plans to 
carry out. She gives us unstinted love and gratitude. 
Joyce has never failed me yet.” 

Camille was silenced. She caught Dodo out of 
her high chair, and made the movement from table 
general. 

They had scarcely reached the homelike living- 
room when the doorbell sounded a quick peal that 
rang through the house. It made the Madame 
exclaim, 

“ Why, that sounds like her now ! ” and, sure 
enough, in a moment Joyce stood, laughing, in their 
midst. 

“ Are you glad to see me ? ” she cried merrily, 
passing her greetings about, but returning to the 
mother’s side directly. “ I had Gilbert bring me 


AT THE BONNIVELS’. 


103 

over, for I’ve something to talk about ; and may I 
stay all night ? ” 

A universal cry of assent having answered her, she 
turned, with her brightest smile, to Larry. 

“ Will the honorable householder dismiss my 
coachman, then ? ” and as, with an exaggerated bow 
and flourish, he disappeared to execute the commis- 
sion, she turned swiftly upon Madame Bonnivel. 
“Ma mere, aren’t you paler than you should be? 
What is the matter? ” 

“ I’ve had just a trifle of a headache, cherie, noth- 
ing worth mentioning.” 

“ I don’t like those headaches — do see Dodo ! 
Her eyes are falling asleep while she is running 
about ; if she stops one instant she’ll be a 
goner ! ” 

All laughed as the child opened her drooping lids 
to their widest, and declared she “ was dest as wide 
awake as a hen,’’ but papa, who had re-entered, caught 
her regardless of protests. 

“ I’ll put her to bed, Dorette. You stay and visit, 
but don’t, Joyce, tell quite all you know till I get 
back. Come, Sleepyhead ! Papa’ll tell about the 
little red hen” — aside to Joyce — “It’s my stock 
yarn. Couldn’t tell another to save my head, and 
studied that out, word for word, on purpose. But 
luckily she wants it every time. I should be bank- 
rupt if she didn’t. Come now, say good-night to all 
like a lady, Toddlekins.” 

“Oh, don’t bother her, Larry. Joyce can take 
the ceremony for granted,” put in the affectionate 


104 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

aunt, who could not bear that any should tease baby 
except herself. 

“Yes, there’s my kiss,” throwing it, “and don’t 
get her roused up, Larry. I’ve things to discuss.” 

“All right. We go, but I return. Au revoir. 
And talk woman’s foolishness till I get back — do ! 
I want to be here when you get off the latest 
fallals.” 

But she began tamely enough. 

“ I saw something in the paper the other day that 
I want to ask about. Is it your house here that is 
advertised for sale ? ” 

Madame Bonnivel nodded, and Dorette answered, 

“ Yes, isn’t it too bad ? The owner has died and 
the estate is to be turned into money wherever pos- 
sible. We can stay until it is sold, or can leave by 
giving a fortnight’s notice at any time, if we prefer.” 

“And then where will you go ? ” 

“ Oh, we haven’t planned that far,” said Camille. 
“ I say, let it be in the suburbs. I hate to think of an 
apartment, again.” 

“ But, my dear, there are far pleasanter ones than 
we used to know,” put in her mother gently. “ I db 
regret leaving here, though. It will be difficult to 
find another place, within our means, where we will 
find so much room outdoors and in. Poor Dodo 
will miss the grassy yard.” 

“ And Dodo’s grandmother, too,” added Camille. 
“You ought to see how chummy they are, Joyce, out 
under our one maple.” 

Joyce was looking at that spiritual woman with an 


AT THE BONNIVELS’. 


105 


expression that arrested the girl’s thought and words. 
It was the look of one who longs, hopes, yet fears, 
and mingled withal was that adoring fondness she 
often showed this mother of her heart. 

“ I see, ma mbre. You cannot go into an apart- 
ment. It would mean imprisonment for you. And 
so — and so — oh ! 1 don’t know just how to get it out, 
but — I have had two of the houses at Littleton es- 
pecially fitted up, and they are close together in what 
will soon be a great lawn. They are very much alike, 
but altogether different — that is, they are just differ- 
ent enough not to be tiresomely similar and — where 
was I ? ” 

All broke into laughter. Joyce’s confusion was 
too funny. 

“ I think you were in either a maze of syntax, or 
of building-lots ; I scarcely know which,” remarked 
the Madame, evidently overflowing. 

“ Well, there are two houses — that is sure. One 
is for me, and the other ” — she looked all about with 
a beautiful smile, nodded brightly at Larry who ap- 
peared opportunely in the doorway, and laid a ten- 
der hand on Madame’s knee — the other is for ma 
mere, if she will only be good enough to live close 
beside her naughty baby, and help her along in 
life.” 

“ Oh, Joyce ! Joyce ” cried that lady, catching the 
hand between her own, while with a sharp little sound 
Camille sprang to her feet, Dorette meanwhile break- 
ing into a laugh almost like Dodo’s for innocent joy. 

“I knew you, Joyce!” said she, and Madame, 


106 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

caressing the girl’s hand, added tremulously, “ My 
dear, dear child ! ” 

“ And so I’m no longer to be proprietor and boss,” 
cried Larry, coming forward. “Oh, I’ve heard 
you plotting and planning. Mother Bonnivel, are 
you going to turn us Driscolls out of doors, now 
you’ve come into your palace ?” 

“Oh dear, no palace! Just a comfortable home 
with room enough to swing all Dodo’s kittens in,” 
laughed Joyce, to keep back the tears, for the dear 
mother’s joy upset her. 

“ I should dread a palace, cherie,” said the latter, 
then turned to the young husband of her daughter, 
whom she loved as a son. “ We’ve had no mine 
and thine so far, Larrimer, and we won’t begin 
now.” 

“ Oh ! ” was Camille’s outburst, “ how perfectly 
charming it is to have it come from Joyce. If it was 
anybody else mother could never be induced to take 
it. Do tell us more, J oycey love — how far out is Lit- 
tleton by rail ? Could Larry live there and go in 
to his work? Could I go on with my music and 
cadet teaching ? ” 

“ It is forty minutes ride by rail. You saw the 
town before anything was done and in early spring. 
You would not know it now. It is green where it 
was brown, clean where it was dirty, trim where it 
was shabby. It begins to look like a great park, 
and the cottages are really ornamental, as well as 
comfortable. Our homes are to overlook the town 
and face the park at its broad end — you know it is 


AT THE BONNIVELS’. 


107 


tri-angular in shape — and they are already at the 
decorating stage. I did not want to go further with- 
out letting the rest of you have your say.” 

“ Oh, delicious ! ” cried Camille. “ I do think 
planning out pretty rooms is perfectly fascinating. 
Can’t you tell us something how they are built ? ” 

Joyce laughed, and took from her pocket a large 
sheet of letter paper, looking meanwhile with half 
suffused eyes towards Madame. 

“ Do you remember, ma mere,” she said tenderly, 
“ how we used to sew and plan together in those old 
days when we were so poor in money and so rich 
in dreams ? ” 

“ Indeed I do, Joyce.” 

“ And, one winter’s day, when the house was so 
cold we had to huddle close around the old wood 
stove and shiver, do you remember telling how we 
would have our home if we could, and how per- 
fectly it should be warmed in winter and cooled in 
summer? We all got enthusiastic over it; there 
were you and Dorette and I, while Camille lay fast 
asleep in her cradle ; and first one, then another, 
would propose some convenience, until we forgot 
the cold entirely. Finally you cried gaily, ’ Wait, 
I’ll draw a plan. These are good ideas for some- 
body, if not for us. Give me a pencil and paper 
Joyce,” and presently you showed us what you had 
drawn.” 

“ Oh, yes ! The pretty house with the dumb 
waiter going from cellar to attic, and the soiled 
clothes dump from the upper floors to the laundry, 


108 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

and the store-room downstairs for trunks and heavy 
furniture, and — ” 

“ And the long drawers under the deep window- 
seats for best gowns,” broke in Dorette with unusual 
excitement, “ and the little cedar closet for furs, 
and the elegant lighted closets. I remember the 
plan perfectly. But that — is that it, Joyce? ” 

“This is the very self-same drawing,” said the 
latter merrily. 

“ I had wondered what became of it, then forgot 
it entirely,” laughed the Madame. “So you have 
had it all the time ? ” 

“Yes, I stole it. And, ma mere, the house is 
built. There are the very little nooks, sunny and 
warm, that you planned in the library for reading 
and writing ; the pretty Dutch kitchen with its long 
low window, and the central hall with its wide fire- 
place. They are all real now, not a dream any more. 
And they are yours. You have only to take pos- 
session, after giving a few orders to the decorators 
about colors, and so forth. If you say so, Gilbert 
shall drive us out to-morrow. We can take Dodo, 
and carry a luncheon to picnic by the wayside. It 
will be a lovely outing. Won’t we, everybody ? ” 

But somehow words came tardily just then. 
Larry had caught Joyce’s hand, and was pumping it 
up and down somewhat wildly, while his lips quiv- 
ered under his mustache ; Madame Bonnivel had 
a trembling grasp upon the other hand, while* 
Dorette and Camille were each kissing an ear, or an 
eye — they could not see for tears and did not care 


AT THE BONNIVELS’. 


109 


anyhow, so long as it was a bit of Joyce. Till, fling- 
ing her arms about them all, she broke out into a 
sudden passionate, “ Oh, dear people ! My people ! 
Let’s cling together. I’ve nobody in all the world 
but you ! “ At which heart-breaking cry the mother 

quickly responded, 

“ Why, child, you are a part of us. We have had 
you always when we could. Do you suppose we 
would ever let you go ? ” 

So Joyce turned her giving into begging, and in 
assuring her of the love and loyalty she longed for, 
all forgot their words of thanks till Larry said 
whimsically, “ I’m afraid things are getting a 
little mixed here, and I’m not quite certain, now, 
whether we’re to be grateful to Joyce for a beauti- 
ful home, or she to us for deigning to live beside 
her.” 

This set Camille off into a near approach to hys- 
terics, and let them all gently down to earth once 
more. 

Presently the Madame began in her tender voice, 
which could never seem to interrupt, 

“ We haven’t told our news yet, Joyce. It pales a 
little before your grand tidings, but I think it will 
interest you still. Leon has been promoted.” 

Joyce turned quickly, her face all aglow, her eyes 
like stars. 

“ Oh, is it true ? Then he is first lieutenant ?” 

“Yes, with special work in the engineering de- 
partment, and such kind words from his higher officers 
in their congratulations! We had thought our cup 


I IO 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

of joy quite full when you came in ; now it has 
overflowed.” 

“ And mother was telling all about you and Leon 
when you were little,” put in Camille in so oblivious 
a tone that Larry, catching some fun in the situation, 
laughed outright. 

“What a giggler you are, Larry! Just like a 
school-boy,” admonished the gypsy-maid, frowning 
at him. “ What she said about their childish devo- 
tion was very touching, I thought, and not at all 
funny.” 

Even Madame Bonnivel joined in his hearty laugh, 
now, and poor Joyce, to hide her burning cheeks, 
broke out, 

“ Come, Camille, where’s your mandolin ? I 
haven’t heard you play for an age. ‘ Do let’s play 
and be cheerful ! ’ ” 

“ ] ust what Leon always used to say ! All right, I’ll 
give you my last serenade ; It’s awfully sweet. 
Turn down the lights, Larry. Now, you must all 
imagine you are on the water in Venice, and that 
I’m stealing by in my gondola to call up my lady, 
love from sleep. She’s up in the tower-room of that 
dingy old castle yonder. Hus-sh all ! ” 

They were silent in the dim room, but Joyce’s 
heart was still beating hard. “ Would Leon be as 
pleased as they? She hoped they would tell him in 
just the right way, he was so proud,” and on the 
dainty “ tinkle-tinkle-tum ” of the stringed instru- 
ment her thoughts floated outward over the broad 
sea, to find her childhood’s mate again. 


CHAPTER XI. 


THE SOCIAL HOUSE. 

. The large building which had caused so much 
comment was at length finished, and the mystery 
solved. It was indeed a mansion, with rooms for 
recreation and study, but it was neither for young 
Early, nor any other one person. It was, instead, 
the joint property of all the village, and to be known 
as the Littleton Social House. On the lower floor 
was a library, with well-lighted nooks, to be used 
as reading-rooms ; beyond that were the art-rooms 
one for modeling in clay, one for sketching, and a 
third inner, sky-lighted, place for photography. On 
the other side of the great hall was a large music- 
room with a canvas floor, containing a piano and 
cabinet organ, also shelves for music numbers, and a 
raised dais for an orchestra. Beyond was a pleasant 
parlor, from which opened a small apartment provided 
with conveniences for quiet table games; and all 
these were neatly fitted with strong easy chairs, 
tables, and cabinets, the walls being beautified with 
many good photographs from paintings of masters, 
both old and new. 

The supposed “ ball-room,” above, developed into 

a gymnasium and entertainment hall, with a rostrum 

hi 


1 12 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

and curtains, where lectures, concerts, pictured views, 
and little dramas might be given ; and surrounding 
this were roof balconies, with palms, vines, and pot- 
ted plants, making them into bowers of beauty and 
coolness. Here were seats and tables where the 
warm and weary might stray for a cooling drink of 
lemonade, or an ice, served at a price within the 
means of the very poor. A trim little widow, whose 
husband when living had been a trusted employee, 
and who was trying her best to raise her young 
family without him, had been set up in this restau- 
rant, apparently by Mr. Dalton, and provided with 
the necessary outfit, for which she was to pay a liv- 
ing rental during the summer months. The chance 
seemed heaven-sent to the poor young creature, who 
had nearly succumbed before her heavy toil at the 
washtub, for she was too delicately formed for such 
labors. 

The janitorship of the whole large building brought 
independence to another family where the capable 
mother dying had left a crippled husband and two 
young girls to struggle on as best they could. JVith 
the youthful help of these sturdy girls he could 
undertake the office of caretaker, and, as pretty liv- 
ing rooms were furnished them in the high, airy 
basement, the family felt almost as if they had been 
transported to Paradise after the terrible experiences 
of the past winter, with a mere shed for shelter, the 
coal running short at too frequent intervals, and 
meat only compassed as a rare luxury on the 
“ lucky ” days when one or the other could pick up 


THE SOCIAL HOUSE. 


ii3 

an extra nickel, or two, by some special good 
fortune. 

To all the questions and conjectures over this 
miracle of a house Mr. Dalton opposed an impassive 
front. “ It is none of my doing,” he averred 
brusquely. “ I never should have thought of it, and 
wouldn’t have built it if I had, no matter who 
furnished the money, for I don’t believe you’ll appre- 
ciate it, or take care of it. ’But all I’ve got to say is, 
if any one of you do abuse it, and go to spitting on 
the floor, or hacking up the woodwork, or pulling 
things out of shape in any way, you’ll be lower than 
any truck that I care to have around, and you’ll have 
me to deal with when I’m at my ugliest — you under- 
stand what that means ! ” 

The men, who had been grouped in the yard 
after hours, talking it over, and whose hail for 
information as he passed by had brought out 
his vigorous remarks, looked at each other and 
grinned half sheepishly. Then one spoke up 
sturdily : 

“ I guess we know good manners when we see 
’em, boss ! We ain't pigs, nor tramps.” 

Dalton laughed in his curt fashion. 

“ You know well enough, but you don’t care pretty 
often. If young Early is decent enough to give 
you boys a chance at some pleasure, you want to 
show you appreciate it — that’s all. And when you 
get your invite to the house-warming, you’ll be ex- 
pected to show up as the gentlemen you can be 
when you trv.” 


1 14 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

Billy May, once a sailor, straightened up and 
touched his cap. 

“ Ay, ay, sir ! ” he bellowed, as if receiving orders 
in a towering gale, at which all laughed and Dalton, 
smiling in spite of himself, passed on. 

The invitations came in good time, and were in a 
somewhat comprehensive form, each being addressed 
to the householder in person, with the words, “ and 
whole family ” added. No family was forgotten, 
but as the building could not accommodate the 
whole village, two evenings were set for the reception 
and opening, all the names up to N, in alphabetical 
order, being chosen for Tuesday evening and the 
rest for Wednesday, while different hours were men- 
tioned that there need be no crowding, though it 
was discovered later that no matter at which hour 
one arrived, the most of them staid till the very latest 
mentioned, loth even then to leave the, to them, 
novel scene. 

A day or two before this pleasant event, which 
had set the whole town into a delightful turmoil of 
expectation and comment, a couple of families quietly 
moved into the two neat, but by no means sumptu- 
ous dwellings, lately built on the little knoll over 
against the broad end of the park, and facing it. 
You will remember that the school-house was at one 
side, the church near by, while the Social house 
fronted the narrow point, with a street between. 
Thus the two homes overlooked park and buildings, 
exactly facing the Social house, though at a distance, 
while the Works at the other extreme of the village 


THE SOCIAL HOUSE. 


”5 

were half hidden by intervening buildings, and soon 
would be quite overshadowed by the many trees 
lately set out. 

These were the homes which Joyce had built for 
herself and the Bonnivels. Both of them, though 
fitted with many conveniences and finished with 
taste, were of moderate cost, there being not one 
extravagance, and only the modicum of room actually 
needed for refined living, in either. Many a rich 
woman has thought nothing of putting more ex- 
pense into the fitting of one room, even, than Joyce 
had laid out on her whole house. Indeed that re- 
served for Madame was much the costlier of the 
two. Yet, with the pretty outlook across the green 
triangle before the doors, the high situation, the 
soft roll of the lawns surrounding them, and the 
majesty of the one immense maple which stood be- 
tween the buildings, and had grown for a quarter of 
a century in lordly majesty, appropriating to itself 
all the juices of the soil for yards around, until it 
was the famed landmark of that region, these places 
were more attractive than many more palatial which 
fairly daunt the stranger with their cold magnificence. 
These smiled in one’s face with a hospitable wel- 
come. 

Moving was not a difficult operation for Joyce, as 
she had little heavy furniture to take from the hotel ; 
and it had been a labor of love and jollity to run 
about with Dorette and Camille, selecting and ar- 
ranging, first submitting everything to Madame’s 
superior and almost faultless judgment. And here 


ii 6 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

the girl’s passion for sharing — she liked the word 
better than giving — often asserted itself. Obstin- 
ately declaring that she should be wretched in a home 
where everything “smelled of its newness,” she had 
coaxed and cajoled her friends until, almost without 
their realizing it, there had been such a division of 
the old Bonnivel effects and the new Lavillotte pur- 
chases that both houses presented a pretty equal 
mingling of the ancient and modern. For instance, 
Joyce begged the small round table with claw legs 
from their dining-room, to send in its place one of 
the handsomest large mahogany rounds she could 
procure. So Ellen’s room was neatly furnished with 
Madame Bonnivel’s square lieavy set, stately if not 
graceful, while the latter’s bloomed out with pier- 
glass and satinwood of the daintiest. The Bonnivels’ 
worn cane chairs somehow found places on Joyce’s 
veranda, while a new half-dozen rockers, of quaint 
and comfortable shape, took their places through the 
pretty living rooms next door. 

“ I feel,” said Joyce gaily, “ so much more respect- 
able than if my things were all new. These good 
old plantation souvenirs give to my indefinite outlines 
a deep rich background that brings me out in stronger 
colors.” 

For, with all her wealth and power, Joyce often 
felt this “ indefiniteness,” as she called it. She knew 
people were wont to ask, “ Who is she ? Where is 
her family ? ” and to look with some misgiving on a 
girl too rich to pass unnoticed, yet too poor to own 
a family and a past about which she was free to 


THE SOCIAL HOUSE. 


ii 7 


babble. She found that riches set one out from the 
crowd as does the search-light which cannot be 
dodged nor dimmed, and sometimes she would have 
flung every dollar away, and given up all her pet 
schemes, just to have crept into the safe shelter 
of the Bonnivel home as a real child of that 
house, to become as happily obscure as Dorette, or 
Camille. 

The Tuesday night ofihe first house-warming for- 
tunately fell upon a cool evening, when no one could 
much mind the occasional sprinkle of rain, so glad 
were they of a change from the fierce heat and 
drought of the past fortnight. As it was, the clouds 
brooded low, and the breeze held the freshness of 
showers near by, while now and then the moon peered 
through a rift and lit up the hushed darkness, which 
was like that of a chamber where sleep comes after 
pain. 

The Social house, gleaming with electric lights to 
the very summit of the flag-staff above its roof, from 
which the stars and stripes waved in languid content- 
ment, was not only near the center of the town, geo- 
graphically, but also in aim and interest, tonight. 
The half-world which was not invited till to-morrow 
was anxious to see how the other half would look 
in gala costume, to-night ; and a stranger, suddenly 
dropped into the neighboring streets, would have 
had to look twice to convince himself these neat- 
looking females, tripping that way, were the wives 
and daughters of artisans who worked for a few shil- 
lings a day. Fortunately summer dress-goods cost 


1 18 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

little, and there were but few of the girls who had 
not compassed a new six-cent muslin, or at least 
“ done up ” an old one into crisp freshness. The 
men were equally disguised by soap, water, and shav- 
ing, with coats instead of shirt-sleeves, but these 
could not simulate the fine gentleman so readily as 
could their daughters the fine lady. 

Among these self-respecting Americanized fami- 
lies there was occasionally seen a sprinkling of those 
who disdained any approach to dudishness, or had 
not yet grasped it as anything that could possibly 
pertain to themselves, and these — mostly new impor- 
tations from Poland or Italy — strode dauntlessly up 
to the wide-open doors in the deep Grecian portico, 
the men in clumping shoes and the women in little 
head shawls, jabbering noisily with wonder and curi- 
osity. 

Mr. Dalton, under sealed orders, had placed him- 
self, with his aunt, near the outer doorway of the 
broad entrance hall to receive the guests, and when 
Joyce’s party appeared all were welcomed exactly as 
had been the other arrivals. 

Their entrance was rather imposing, though, de- 
spite precautions, for first came Larry with Madame, 
then Dorette with Joyce, and lastly Camille leading 
Dodo, with Ellen stalking at their side, the very 
picture of a duenna. Somewhat in the rear Gilbert 
and two other maids, Kate and Thyrza — this latter 
from the Bonnivel house — followed with dubious 
looks, feeling probably that they were neither “ fish 
flesh, nor good red herring,” in this motley assem- 


THE SOCIAL HOUSE. 


1 19 

blage, which offered no such companionship as they 
were accustomed to. 

Joyce’s eyes shone like stars, and even in her plain 
white Suisse gown, without an ornament except the 
rings upon her fingers, there was a sort of regal splen- 
dor about her that made every eye turn to watch her 
as she entered. After Mrs. Phelps had greeted them 
all with evident pleasure at having them for neigh- 
bors, they found an easy-chair for Madame, where 
she might listen and feel the happy surging of the 
crowd about her. As soon as seated she gently 
pushed Joyce away. 

“ Go,” she whispered. “You want to see and talk 
with as many as possible. I shall do nicely alone. 
All of you go, and then you can tell me more when 
you come back. It will be fun to compare experi- 
ences. Who has Dodo?” 

“ I have her just this minute,” said Camille, “but 
she has sighted Larry and I can’t hold her. He is 
talking to two men in the window at your left, and 
looking handsome as a picture ! There, for good- 
ness’ sake, go, if you must ! I do believe the little 
tyke has torn my new dimity, clutching at it so. 
Come, Joyce, let’s go and speak to those girls. 
They look positively wretched in their best clothes, 
poor things ! ” 

“ You go,” said Joyce. “ I see my old friend Mrs. 
Hemphill — Rachel’s mother, you know. See her, 
there with the three children? We must make the 
most of ourselves, and you can jolly up the girls 
better than I. I’m going to bring some of the inter- 


120 ’ JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

esting people to you, ma mere. You’ll know how 
to talk to all of them, but you shan’t be bored ! ” 

“ We need no special vocabulary to be kind,” 
smiled Madame. “ I will soon make friends right 
here, and I’m not afraid of being bored. People 
always talk to the blind, and smile on the deaf. Run 
along ! ” 

Joyce gave her a love-pat, and hurried after Mrs. 
Hemphill who, with a strong grasp on her little ones, 
was stemming the tide of humanity with a somewhat 
defiant mien, while her head was swinging around 
as if on a pivot, so determined was she not to miss 
the sight of a single decoration or picture, nor the 
passing of a single guest. She stopped to speak to a 
much wrinkled dame in a real Irish bonnet, with a 
flapping frill, who was smiling so broadly as to dis- 
play with reckless abandon her toothless gums. 

“ Purty foin, ain’t it? ” this one laughed, as they 
stopped abreast of each other so suddenly that the 
babies nearly fell over backward. “ And say,” lower- 
ing her voice so that Joyce barely caught the words, 
“ they do be tellin’ they’s to be sand-whiches, an’ 
coffee, an’ rale ice-crame byme-by. Does ye b’lave 
it?” 

“ Umph ! It gets me what to b’lieve, these days,” 
muttered Mrs. Hemphill, with a backward slap at 
one of the children who, upon hearing the enumera- 
tion of goodies, began to tease for some. What’s 
ailin’ you now?” she cried fiercely. “ Want some- 
pin to eat, you say? You want a trouncin’, that’s 
what you want ! ” lifting the little thing with a mo- 


THE SOCIAL HOUSE. 


21 


tion tenderer than her words. “ Ain’t it all the crazi- 
est doin’s ? But say, Mis’ Flaherty, they tells me 
you won’t go into one of the new houses, nohow.” 

“ And why should I, tell me thot ! ” began Mrs. 
Flaherty on a high key, just as Joyce stepped gra- 
ciously forward, with the words, 

“ Isn’t this the Mrs. Hemphill I remember?” 

The latter turned quickly. 

“ Hey ? Oh, why yes, I do mind you now. L<et’s 
see, you come to sell a washin’ machine, didn’t you ? 
Or was it a story-paper? Oh! no, now I know,” 
darting suspicious glances over the head of the child 
in her arms, “ you was talkin’ about schools and tryin’ 
to get one up.” 

“ Well, partly,” answered Joyce, rather crestfallen, 
and glanced up to meet the dancing eyes of Larry, 
who was passing by and caught the high-keyed sen- 
tence. “ But you know I have come here to live 
now, and I assure you I am not a teacher — just a 
private citizen.” 

“ Do tell ! Well, I thought you was something or 
other — they’s sech a raft of agents along ; though 
my Mary tells me ’tain’t a circumstance to the city — 
Mate works out in the city. Let me make you 
acquainted with Mis’ Flaherty. She’s the lady what 
lives in Bachelor’s Row and takes in boarders and 
washin’s — now, Johnny, you stop a-tuggin’ at my 
skirts, will ye ? You’ve started the gethers a’ready. — 
She ain’t exactly a bachelor herself, but she’s next 
to it — a widder woman. He ! he ! ” 

Mrs. Hemphill’s laughter was so much like the 


122 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ crackling of thorns under a pot ” as to be far from 
pleasant. Joyce hastened to speak. 

“ But I can’t see why you preferred not to move, 
Mrs. Flaherty. Don’t you like the new houses ? ” 
she asked, a bit anxiously, looking from one to the 
other and feeling decidedly wet-blanketed. 

“ Oh, they’ll do,” nodding the cap frills vigorously. 
“ It ain’t fur the loikes o’ me to be sayin’ anythin’ 
agin ’em, but I never did take to these new-fangled 
doin’s, ’m. I’ve heered tell how them water pipes’ll 
be afther busting up with the first frost, just like 
an old gun, and I don’t want any sich doin’s on my 
premises. No sir ! I ain’t so old but I can pump 
water out of a well yet, and it’s handy enough.’ 
’Tain’t more’n just across the strate, and whin ’tain’t 
dusty, nur snowy, nur muddy, it’s all right enough. 

“ Well, I don’t carry water when I can make it run 
by turning a stopple — not much I don’t ! ” cried 
Mrs. Hemphill vigorously, meanwhile tilting back 
and forth on heels and toes with a jolting motion 
which was gradually producing drowsiness* in the 
infant she held. “ And my man says it can’t freeze 
in them pipes ’cause the nateral gas is goin’ to run 
day and night and keep ’em hot. And Nate Tierney, 
he says ’t water an’ heat an’ lightin’ is goin’ to be 
jest as free, in our town, as sunshine an’ air is every- 
where. That’s what Nate says, and if it’s true it’s 
a mighty big load off ’n us poor folks, and that’s 
certain ! ” 

“ But we’re goin’ to be taxed for ’em,” put in 
another woman, joining the group — a lanky creature 


THE SOCIAL HOUSE. 


123 

with washed-out eyes, and lips that she seemed in 
danger of swallowing, so sunken were they. 

“ How’s that ? ” cried Mrs. Hemphill, sharply. 

“ It’s to be some way put onto the men in their 
drink and tobacco — so my man says — and it’ll make 
it a cent more on a glass and a plug. My man says 
everybody what brings any into this town’s got to 
pay somethin’ fur the privilege, and that goes into 
the heatin’ and lightin’ fund. And he says it’s a 
blamed shame, and the men won’t stand it, either! 
Fur’s that’s concerned, what do they care whether 
we’re warm or cold, so ’t they gits their dram ? ” 

Just here Rachel Hemphill came rapidly towards 
them. 

“ Mother,” she began, then looked askance at 
Joyce, whose eyes, now somewhat troubled, turned 
eagerly to meet her glance. 

“ Well, what is it now ? ” asked the mother crossly, 
for, though she liked nothing better than to sit and 
praise Rachel by the hour, she always kept her bellig- 
erent attitude toward her family, as if afraid she 
might relent too much if she once gave way an inch. 

“ I was going to say,” the girl continued excitedly, 
with another glance at Joyce, “you’ll miss the con- 
cert, if you don’t hurry. It’s upstairs in the big 
room, and they’re all hustling for seats. And 
mother,” dropping to a whisper, “ our Kip is to 
sing ! ” 

“Kip? You don’t say! Who told you ? Let’s 
hurry ! Johnny, come along and stop draggingyour 
feet. I’ll lay the babby down some’ers and go 


124 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

right up ; he’s sound fur an hour or two, I hope. 
You’re coming, Rache ? ” 

“Yes, in a minute,’" for Joyce had stepped to- 
wards her with outstretched hand, partly barring 
her way. 

“ My name is Lavillotte,” she said, “ and I have seen 
you several times. The Bonnivels and I have just 
moved into the two houses at the other end of 
the park, and we want to get acquainted with our 
neighbors.” 

Rachel’s cool fingers dropped into Joyce’s eager 
jeweled ones, and fell away again. 

“You will find but a small set of your kind of 
people here, Miss Lavillotte. There’s the doctor’s 
family, Mr. Dalton’s, and one or two others. I’m 
just one of the working girls,” and before Joyce 
could speak to protest she had turned away with a 
proud look, and hastened after her mother. 


CHAPTER XII. 


THE HOUSE-WARMING. 

JOYCE had never been used to rebuffs. Feeling 
like a child who has had its gift of sweeties flung 
back into its face she turned slowly to retrace her 
steps towards Madame Bonnivel, and even in the 
short circuit of the crowded rooms she more than 
once caught words of criticism and unfriendly 
comment. One man, who was gesticulating largely 
with his somewhat grimy hands, uttered these 
words while she slid and sidled through the un- 
yielding group about him, almost like one trying 
to avoid a blow — 

“ Generous ! Who says he’s generous ? Don’t 
you fool yourselves. We’ll have to pay for it 
somehow, you mark my words. Young Early’s like 
his father, only ’cuter. He’s going to work things 
up till he makes folks think this town’s a little Eden 
and then, when more workers wants to come here 
because it’s sort o’ neat and pretty, he’ll begin to 
squeeze us on the wages, and if we dare to kick he’ll 
say coolly, ‘ Go, if you don’t like it. There’s plenty 
ready and waiting to take your place.’ Oh, I know 
’em, root and branch, and we ain’t no more’n just a 
pack o’ cards in their hands. They shuffle us, and 

125 


126 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

deal us round where we can help ’em to rake in the 
most chips, and when they’re done with us — pouf ! 
away we go into the fire, for all they care.” 

Joyce, fairly stung, made a quick movement to- 
wards him, then, remembering herself drew back, 
while the man, turning at the minute, smiled and 
made way for her. She was only a pretty girl to 
him, and he had not Rachel’s discerning eyes, to 
observe that she was out of her class here, and never 
for an instant imagined what his tirade had meant to 
her. 

When Joyce reached the Madame she was trem- 
bling a little, and pressed herself against that lady’s 
chair, longing for comfort. Yet, in reply to the 
Madame’s greeting she answered with but one word. 
She was afraid to trust herself with more. The 
blind woman’s keen instinct divined that something 
was amiss. She had been talking placidly with many, 
and had also heard all sorts of comments and con- 
jectures, so could imagine the feelings of this warm- 
hearted girl who had been giving so freely, and who 
longed for some little expression of appreciation and 
gratitude in return. But fearing themselves sur- 
rounded she could not speak quite freely, so she 
clasped Joyce’s trembling fingers warmly while she 
quoted with an arch, smiling face. 

“ Perhaps it was well to dissemble your love, 

But why did you kick me down-stairs ? ” 

Joyce had to laugh heartily amid her gloom, and 
felt better for the outburst. 


THE HOUSE-WARMING. 127 

•“ It’s what I want to know, myself ! ” she cried 
warmly. Have I quite deserved it all? ” 

“ It’s the way of the world, my dear. But I’ve 
something to tell you, on my side. I have just 
been talking to a young girl — I think they call her 
Lucy — and she is so glad and happy over this house 
and its possibilities ! I wish you could have heard 
her talk. She says her mother is dead, and she is 
busy all day with the .housework and babies. But 
to-night some good friend she called Nate, as I re- 
member, who is not invited till to-morrow evening, 
said he would sit with the children and she should 
come with her father. It’s the first party she was 
ever at, and she has a new muslin for it, and some 
dear Marry, as she called her, gave her a bit of nice 
lace for the neck, and it has been all bliss and rapt- 
ure ! Her voice was fairly tremulous with happi- 
ness, Joyce.” 

“ O ! ” cried the latter, feeling better and better, 
“ It must have been Lucy Hapgood. I wish I could 
have seen her, myself. Which way did she go ? ” 

“ I don’t know, dear. Who is near us now ? No 
one very close, is there? ” 

“ No — at least all are busy with their own affairs.” 
“ Then I will say this ; remember always that you 
are not doing these things for gratitude, nor praise. 
That has always been understood, hasn’t it?” 

“ Yes, yes, of course. But— but it’s hard to have 
abuse, ma mere ! ” 

“ They don’t mean it for you, cherie. Are they 
not all nice to you, personally ? ” 


128 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ They treat me well enough, yes. But not as if 
they really care for me.” 

“ And why should they, on so short acquaintance ! 
Remember, they do not dream who their good fairy 
really is. And you must always tell yourself it is 
not you they repulse. You simply stand for the 
class that has oppressed and cheated them. They 
denounce young Early ” to-night, simply for the sake 
of what has gone before. They cannot believe in 
real friendliness all at once, and they look coolly on 
you, imagining you have no interests in common with 
them. They look across a gulf of suffering and pri- 
vation at you, who seem never to suffer, and their 
eyes grow hard and stony. Can you wonder? You 
should not be either surprised, or hurt.” 

“ But they don’t treat you so, mother. And you 
are of my class, as you call it.” 

“ Am I ? Well, granting all that, you forget I am 
blind. My affliction brings me more in touch with 
them. I would have no feeling of superiority — I 
could not ; so they come nearer to me, perhaps. 
Or else I have fallen among pleasanter people. 
Look your sweetest now, and try once more. I’m 
sure you will find some warmer currents in this 
frozen stream, if you sound it well.” 

Joyce smilingly pressed the gentle hand that ca- 
ressed her own. 

“ I’ll make another plunge,” she said more hope- 
fully, “ Ah ! here’s Mr. Dalton. I think he looks a bit 
triste , too. Good evening again, Mr. Dalton. I want 
to ask you a question, please. Can you tell me who 


THE HOUSE-WARMING. 


129 


is that man with the brown hair and bristling red 
beard, over in that group by the door — there, he is 
just moving on.” 

“That? Oh yes, I see. Why, his name is Hap- 
good — Bill Hapgood, as we all call him. His girl 
Lucy is here somewhere — a good child, sadly over- 
worked. He’s no good, though ; always quarreling 
with his bread and butter, and much too fond of 
the saloon.” 

“Lucy Hapgood’s father!” exclaimed Joyce un- 
der her breath, turning surprised eyes upon Madame 
Bonnivel, as if that lady could meet her speaking 
glance. 

And so she could in spirit, for her perceptions 
amounted almost to mind-reading. A smile of 
amusement lit up her sweet face, as she cried mer- 
rily, 

a Father and daughter, are they? What a coinci- 
dence ! ” 

Dalton looked from one to the other, uncompre- 
hending. 

Then his gaze lingered on Joyce’s flushing cheek. 
As she made no effort to explain he said, presently, 
“ I thought Mrs. Bonnivel might like some refresh- 
ments, and I told Mr. Driscoll, if he would take his 
wife and sister I would come for you two ladies. 
But he said they had gone home with the baby.” 

“ Have they ? And what has become of Mrs. 
Phelps?” asked Joyce, feeling somewhat forsaken 
by her clan. 

“ She went in with the doctor some time ago. I 

9 


130 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

rather think she has left, too. She had a headache, 
or something.” 

Joyce glanced around her with a dissatisfied ex- 
pression. 

“ No,” she said, “ this won’t do ! We might as well 
all have stayed at home as to come here just for a 
supercilious glance or two, while we huddle together. 
And yet — whom can I ask to take me ? ” 

Dalton, with his eyes upon her, wondered. Had 
she been at a ball, among her own kind, who would 
not have wanted her ? Even had no hint of pos- 
sessions gone abroad, she was peerless in beauty and 
brightness. He made a queer little sound which 
Madame caught, and laughed softly. 

“You could ask anybody to take me" she said 
with evident amusement, “ and possibly, if Mr. 
Dalton tries hard, he may find somebody even to 
take you, Joyce. I scarcely think they would refuse 
him.” 

He evidently appreciated her fine sarcasm. 

“I could try hard,” he returned, “ provided I am 
too good for the office, myself. Let me see. I sup- 
pose Miss Lavillotte will not be satisfied unless I 
bring somebody as unattractive as possible — wait, I 
have it ! ” 

With a quick “ Excuse me ! ” he hurried away, 
soon to return with a grizzled man of uncertain age, 
who certainly was not attractive, though so greatly 
improved by clean linen and a stiff collar that Dalton 
had noticed the change at once. He was, in fact, 
the very man whom Dan so often heard ha- 


THE HOUSE-WARMING. 


131 

ranguing in the cobbler’s shop, and knew as Tonguey 
Murfree, though when voting he registered as 
Joseph H. 

With an air of exaggerated courtesy Dalton led 
him up and introduced him. 

“ Mrs. Bonnivel, Miss Lavillotte, let me present 
Mr. Murfree, well known of all in Littleton because 
of his eloquence. “ I’m sure he will be glad to take 
you out to supper, and give you his latest views on — 
well, say anarchy.” “ The man winced a little, and his 
florid face took on an added color. In his embar- 
rassment he giggled like a bashful boy, and scraped 
one foot behind him in a low obeisance. 

“ Glad to please the lady, I’m sure,” he muttered, 
quite at his wits’ end what to do next. 

Joyce rather resented the hint of derision in all this, 
and stepping forth a bit proudly, said at once, 

“ Thank you. If you’ll just pilot me through to 
tlYe refreshment room, Mr. Murfree — that is, if you 
know the way.” 

“ Bet I do, ’m, and had a taste and sup myself, 
but I’m not backward to go again. The coffee’s rare 
good, ’m, an the san’wiches very satisfying. But” — 
in a confidential tone, as they moved slowly through 
the throng — “ whoever’s a-doing of all this has made 
one big mistake, ma’am, and that’s a fact.” 

“Indeed! How is that?” 

“ Well, it’s on the drinks, ’m. He might at least 
have give us ginger-beer, or pop, if he’s teetotal, as 
they say. It ’ud seem more nateral, somehow, to be 
drinking stuff outen a glass. But take it all together 


I3 2 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

it’s a pretty decent show, and the pictures and fun- 
nygraph, up in the big room, was fine. But if it’s 
jest a scheme to play some new game on us they 
needn’t try it. We’ve got our eyes peeled, and we 
don’t get tooken in again. Old Early played it up 
pretty cute once, or twice, and we bit like suckers, 
only to wake up with a strong hook in our gills ; but 
this young feller hasn’t got the old one’s experyunce, 
and he’ll make a mess of it, if he tries any dodges. 
You jest set that down, ’fore you forgit it ! ” 

I don’t see what dodge there can be in opening a 
pleasant house to you and giving you a nice party,” 
returned Joyce, trying to keep her tone free of 
resentment. 

“ Oh well, we can’t tell, yet. But maybe you 
ain’t heard that they’re going to have fees, and tax 
the liquors, and all that ? Well, I have, and I say 
’tain’t fair, and he’d better not try it on us ! We 
know our rights, and we’re going to have ’em.” 

He made a flourish with his hands that nearly 
knocked the hat from a girl in the path they were 
slowly treading, and the young owner turned sud- 
denly. It was Lucy Hapgood. 

“ Look out there, you ” — she began, then catching 
sight of Joyce she blushed a little, ducked a courtesy, 
and turned once more to the man. 

“What’s the matter with you now, Tonguey 
Murfree? Ain’t this good enough for you ? You’d 
blow if you was in a palace, sitting on a throne, 
I do believe. You’d find some trick about it, 
some’ers.” 


THE HOUSE-WARMING. 


133 


Joyce met her laughing eyes and felt a hearty 
liking for her. 

“You and I aren’t looking for tricks, are we ? ” 
she said. “ Have you had a good time ? ” 

“ Boss ! and I hate to go, but I ought to, ’cause 
poor Nate ’ll be sleepy, and he has to get to work 
early mornings. He stayed with the young ’uns for 
me.” 

“ And you have seen everything, Lucy ? ” 

“ Guess I didn’t miss much,” laughing happily, 
“ My ! but the supper was good. I only wished I 
could eat more, or else take some of it home. I 
ain’t much on the cooking yet. 

“You’ll soon learn,” encouraged Joyce. “How 
would you enjoy joining a cooking class, and learn- 
ing how to do it all ? ” 

The girl’s honest gray eyes twinkled under the 
the long dark lashes, which gave them such pretty 
shadows. 

“ Would they let you sample the truck they 
cooked? Guess I could stand it, then ! But I don’t 
get much time for folderols.” 

Joyce saw that her escort was uneasy at the delay, 
so said good-night cheerily and followed him. But 
her fastidious ideas received a shock at the scene 
which met them before the refreshment-rooms. Two 
of the parlors had been fitted up with chairs, ranged 
closely around the walls, and a table heaped with 
cups and plates, in the . center. About sixty could 
be accommodated in each, but three times that num- 
ber were scrambling for admittance outside. 


IK JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

The attendants appointed at these doors seemed 
powerless to keep order, and Larry had planted him- 
self before one and was trying to pacify the hungry 
crowd, and promote harmony. For the shoving, 
pushing and swearing were not all good-natured, 
though largely so. 

“ Hold on there ! ” he called to a bull-headed Pole, 
who had just thrust aside a little girl so roughly she 
cried out with pain, “ Hold on ! There’s enough to 
eat, and time enough to eat it in, but nobody gets 
inside here unless he brings his manners with him. 
This isn’t payday, nor the menagerie, nor a bread riot ; 
it’s just a party of ladies and gentlemen, and we’ve 
all got to brace up and remember it. Ladies first, 
now, and stand aside there to let these folks out, or 
there can’t anybody get in. No hurry ! No hurry ! 
the cooks will keep the coffee hot, and the sand- 
wiches haven’t even begun to give out. Hello, 
Joyce ! Do you want to come now ? ” 

“ No, no, we’ll wait,” nodding gaily. “ Let these 
others in who have waited longer.” 

The Pole turned to look at her, while he stood 
stolidly in the path, as close to the door as he could 
crowd, and his expression startled her. The gaunt 
eyes gleamed like those of a wolf, and over the high 
bones above the sunken cheeks the skin glistened, as 
if so tightly stretched as to be in danger of bursting. 
She felt that the man had been in desperate straits, 
and while recoiling before the evil sullenness of his 
look, she felt a deep pity for the pain in it. She 
turned to Murfree. “ Who is that ? ” she had it on 


THE HOUSE-WARMING. 


135 


her tongue’s end to ask, but the look in his face drove 
the query out of her mind. With hands clenched at 
his side, eyes staring through his glasses, and lips 
curled fiercely back from his set teeth, yellowed hor- 
ribly with tobacco, the man was also gazing at the 
Pole, too intent to remember her presence. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


SOME ENCOUNTERS. 

JOYCE watched him a moment, fascinated. Pres- 
ently he drew a long breath, and the tense features 
relaxed. He seemed gathering himself, together, 
and after a short interval of silence, during which 
she pretended to be absorbed in the crowd which 
was streaming through the door, he said in a low, 
husky voice : 

“ Say ’m, if you don’t mind, and seeing’s your ma 
is right here ” — “ he referred to Madame Bonnivel 
who was slowly approaching on Mr. Dalton’s arm — 
“ I guess I’d better git out o’ this crowd and go 
home, I ain’t feeling very well and — good-night !” 

He slipped aside without more ado, ducked his 
shock head, and, before she had time to collect her 
surprised senses, had melted away in the thinning 
swirls of humanity, and was gone. 

“ What ! Deserted already ? ” laughed Mr. 
Dalton with malicious satisfaction, as he caught the 
expression on her face ; but, softening instantly, he 
added, “Well, you’re lucky ! What I had expected 
was that you would never be rid of him till he had 
talked you bl — ” He checked the word on his lips, 
remembering, his companion’s affliction. 

She laughed out merrily. 


136 


SOME ENCOUNTERS. 


137 


“ How can one talk another blind ? We should 
say deaf, I think. The blind always enjoy the merry 
clatter of tongues. Why did he leave, Joyce ? ” 

“ I don’t just understand. He didn’t feel well, 
he said.” 

“ Oh, you overpowered him, Miss Lavillotte ! 
He is not used to beauty and grandeur. I am a 
little afraid of it myself! His own audacity, which 
surprised himself it was so unlike him, made George 
Dalton color like a girl, and he fairly shrank behind 
the Madame’s tall figure to conceal his rising color. 
But Joyce did not notice. She was so intent on 
what she had just seen, as to be oblivious now. 
She took the dear lady’s arm with a delightful sense 
of security, and observed in as matter-of-fact a way 
as she could assume : 

“ We’ll have to wait, anyhow, for the people seem 
actually ravenous, poor things ! I drew back to let 
them by, and thought we would go home ” 

“ No, you can come,” cried Larry, bustling up to 
them. “ Everybody is seated and I’ve found some 
extra chairs and a retired corner for you ladies, 
where you can see without being seen. Dalton and 
I will wait on you. Follow me.” 

He led them across a screened corner and seated 
them within one of the eating-rooms, nearly hidden 
behind the well-heaped table, which had been pushed 
back into an angle of the wall. As Joyce looked 
about her the Pole was nearly opposite, and sat 
gorging the large sandwich, handed him upon his 
plate, in a greedy manner that fairly horrified her. 


138 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

There was something animal-like, ghoulish even, in 
his clutching haste ; yet it was pitiable, too. 

“ Mr. Dalton,” she asked, “who is that man?” 

“ He followed the guarded glance of her eye and 
looked a moment with a perplexed frown. 

“ I really can’t tell,” he said at length. “Yet it 
seems as if I ought to know, too. I hardly think 
he’s one of our men, unless he has come very lately. 
He isn’t exactly what you’d call a beauty; is he, 
Miss Lavillotte?” 

“ Far from it. He looks as if he had suffered 
awfully, don’t you think?” 

“ Oh possibly — suffering, or sin — one can scarcely 
tell which it may be at a glance. I’ll step and get 
you the cream and sugar, Mrs. Bonnivel.” 

Joyce continued to watch the man furtively, neg- 
lecting her own food. Every time the sandwiches 
went by he snatched at them, gulping down his 
coffee, between whiles, in great hot swallows that 
made his dreadful eyes stand out still more than 
was natural. Used as the attendants were to irreg- 
ularities in this non-etiquetical company, they 
showed their disgust plainly at his boorishness. 
Two of them stopped a moment near Joyce’s corner, 
to discuss him in no measured terms. One said, 

“ Not another thing does he get here, the brute ! . 
If he thinks we’re keeping a free lunch counter for 
the likes of him he’s mistaken. He hasn’t got com- 
mon decency.” 

Joyce saw him clear the last crumb from his 
plate, and glance furtively to and fro from under 


SOME ENCOUNTERS. 


139 

his bent brows, with a movement that filled her 
with disgust and pity. 

“ The poor wretch is starving ! ” she thought. 
“ The sight and smell of food drive him wild. 
Where can he have been ? ” 

Even as she was thinking this there was a general 
movement, and he too rose from his place with the 
rest. Cup in hand, he neared the table as if to de- 
posit it there before leaving ; but his eyes were on a 
half-emptied tray of the sandwiches just placed 
there, and as he stooped to set down the cup he 
made a quick movement, and scooped up a little 
heap of the slices into the hollow of his hands, from 
which they slid into a coat pocket with dextrous 
suddenness. Some one stepped forward with an 
exclamation at which, with one bound, he sprang 
between the Madame and Joyce, dodged behind 
the screen, and when the attendant reached it, had 
disappeared. The latter turned back with a crest- 
fallen air. 

“ Did you see that ? ” he cried excitedly. “ I 
never saw such a hog ! ” 

Joyce rose, and touched him lightly on the 
arm. 

“ I think it’s hardly worth making a fuss about,” 
she said gently. “ He seemed very hungry — starv- 
ing, indeed. There’s plenty of everything, isn’t 
there ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, but it makes me mad to be so imposed 
on ! I don’t believe the fellow belongs here, any- 
how.” 


i 4 o JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ He looked like a sailor to me,” she observed 
thoughtfully. 

“Umph! Like a jail-bird I should say, Miss. 
Will I bring you some more coffee now?” 

“ No, nothing more, thank you. Just kindly take 
my cup.” 

Larry came up to them, wiping the perspiration 
from his brow. 

“ Whew ! but I’m used up. Aren’t you ready to 
go home, mother? And you Joyce — do you want 
to stay all night ? If I can once get you safely out 
of this, I shall be glad ! ” 

“ Safely out — why do you speak like that, Larry ? ” 

“ Then you haven’t heard anything here ? ” look- 
ing from one to the other, surprisedly. 

“ Nothing save what you are hearing now, the 
clatter of many tongues and plates. Why, my 
son ? ” 

“ Oh ! nothing, only there has just been a pretty 
sharp scrimmage outside. That ugly-looking fellow 
I had to rebuke for rudeness, out here, was pushing 
his way to the outer door in the way he seems 
to affect, when he ran plump into an old party — 
let’s see, they said his name was Murphy, I think, 
or something like that — and of a sudden — well ! 
they sprang at each others’ throats like a couple of 
tigers. They were right in the midst of it, and 
every one too astonished to move, when in came a 
couple of the city police, gave one look, and in a 
trice had my ugly man thrown down and were put- 
ting on the bracelets. It seems, the fellow’s an 


SOME ENCOUNTERS. 


141 

escaped convict, and has been hiding around here 
in the woods for weeks. He must have been so 
nearly starved as to lose all caution before coming 
to so public a place. I can’t understand it, myself, 
but I presume he would have escaped unmolested, 
only for the fight, Dalton,” turning to the manager 
who had just returned from his prolonged absence, 
“ what does it all mean, anyhow ? I suppose you 
saw the fracas ? ” 

“ No, I got there just as it was all over, and I 
can’t tell you much about -it. They’ve taken the 
man away, and Murfree, too. The latter is pretty 
badly used up and can’t talk. That was as savage 
a brute as I ever saw ! ” 

“ He was a desperate man,” said Joyce, still feel- 
ing the stirrings of pity. “ He was nearly starved 
to death, and there was something awful between 
him and that Murfree — I could see that.” 

“You could ? ” The manager gave her a wonder- 
ing glance. 

“ Are you very observing. No one seems to know 
any reason for his springing upon Murfree so.” 

“ There was a reason,” persisted Joyce. “They 
had met before, I’m certain. Come, ma mere, let’s 
go home.” 

“You are tired, child. Yes, we will go at once. 
It must be late.” 

Joyce’s tone had expressed more than weariness, 
and Madame Bonnivel’s heart ached for her disap- 
pointment and chagrin. She took the girl’s hand 
and drew her along. 


142 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ Larry, you’ll stay with Mr. Dalton and help pre- 
serve order ! Gilbert can accompany us.” 

“Oh, if I must,” shrugging his shoulders. “But 
I feel that a motion for all to adjourn would be in 
order ; don’t you, Dalton ? ” 

“ All right ! We’ll clear the rooms in no time.” 

Joyce stopped him with an uplifted hand. 

“ They must go when and as they choose. It is 
their party. Please don’t interfere in the least. 
Come Madame, we can slip out unnoticed. Nobody 
needs us here.” 

The two stepped briskly on, and Dalton, watch- 
ing Joyce, shook his head ruefully, then turned to 
Larry. 

“ It’s too bad she’s just as she is. It means a lot 
of heartbreaks and disappointments. Pity women 
can’t take the world as it is.” 

“ Well, perhaps — provided they don’t leave it as 
it is. I am inclined to believe it’s that kind of 
woman who is responsible for the fact that the 
world does grow better as the centuries pass. And 
those who know Joyce Lavillotte would scarcely 
care to change her.” 

“ No, no ; nor I ! It was of herself I was think- 
ing. She’s got to suffer so. One hates to see a 
person take a cloud for something tangible and keep 
falling off, to be bruised and beaten. If she could 
always soar — but the falls will come.” 

He sighed, and Larry laughed. 

“ She’d rather bear the falls than never soar. Let 
her alone ! ” 


SOME ENCOUNTERS. 


143 

“ Oh, of course ; it’s all one can do. But — it 
hurts.” 

The last words were in a whisper, so lost on 
Larry, who had just turned to speak with the phono- 
graph exhibitor now making ready to depart. 

Meanwhile, the Madame and Joyce had hastily 
gathered up their wraps, and were waiting an in- 
stant in the hall till Gilbert could make his way to 
them from the corner out of which they had beck- 
oned him, (nothing loth, for he was half asleep,) 
when Rachel passed them quickly, her own wrap on 
her arm. She looked flushed and animated. Her 
cold, indifferent mask seemed to have fallen from 
her face. Her mother was awaiting her, the sleep- 
ing baby folded in her shawl. 

“Well, d’ye have a good time?” she asked, as 
the daughter joined her. 

“ So good I can hardly believe it’s real, mother ! ” 
was the glad answer. Then, catching sight of the 
ladies near by, she bowed slightly, with a shy smile 
at Joyce. 

“ Good-night,” she said softly, flushing a little. 
“Are you going, too? It’s been fine, hasn’t it? ” 

In her surprised pleasure Joyce forgot to answer, 
except with a vigorous nod and smile, but in an in- 
stant she whispered in a brightening tone, “ It was 
Rachel, ma mere. Did you hear?” 

“Yes, I did. I could hear the joy in her tone, 
too. It has been a good time for many, I know, 
and gladness will soften the hardest and coldest, 
Joyce. Don’t falter because wrong must still be, 


144 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

daughter. People have to be educated in enjoy- 
ment as well as in anything else. It may not be 
one of the first, or best, things in life, but it has its 
uses, and they are many. My Joyce is not working 
for appreciation, nor for praise, but just to better 
these who have become peculiarly her own people. 
Let us be patient, dear.” 

And Joyc£, though bruised and worn, was not 
quite beaten, though the evening had been so far 
from realizing her anticipations. Lucy and Rachel 
had been pleased, at least. That was something ! 


CHAPTER XIV. 


JOYCE AND HER MANAGER. 

“ In every house, Miss Lavillotte ? Beg pardon, 
but have you considered the cost ? ” Mr. Dalton 
wore his business face, with its sternest expression, 
and it did not relent even when he looked up into 
hers. 

Joyce smiled in spite of it, and fished out a news- 
paper-clipping from her plethoric pocket-book, 
which she handed her manager with a ceremonious 
air. He read it, and his visage grew perplexed and 
miserable. 

“ M-mm, ‘ grand entertainment. Five hundred 
for flowers. Gown of hostess embroidered in seed 
pearls. Jewels a thousand, and at least ten’ — are 
you sure this is what you meant me to read? You 
know it’s all Greek to me ! ” looking down with de- 
precation into her laughing, upturned eyes. 

“ Perfectly sure. You see who gave that enter- 
tainment ? ” 

“Yes, I see.” 

“ Is she a richer woman than I ? Has she a larger 
income ? ” 

“About the same, I presume.” 

“ And the expenses she incurred, as detailed 
there, were for one evening? ” 
t o 


i45 


1 46 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“Yes. Doubtless this is greatly exaggerated, 
though. These news items about swelldom usually 
are, aren’t they ? ” 

“ I cannot tell, not belonging to swelldom, my- 
self. But granting all that, and allowing even half 
off, if you say so, it will still exceed what this plan 
is to cost me. And my little fun is not for one lone 
evening, but for a whole year, in which nearly five 
hundred people will share and be benefited — not 
simply amused or bored.” 

“You are good at arguing, Miss Lavillotte, and 
your money is your own. If you wish to squander 
it that way” — He stopped abruptly, warned by 
the flash of her eye. 

“ I had not used that word in this connection,” 
she said coldly, “ but you may if you choose.” 

“Well,” he returned, in some desperation, “we’ll 
drop the word ‘ squander,’ then, if it is offensive to 
you. But you must allow you are spending a great 
deal, mustn’t you? Some of it is well spent, I’ll 
admit, and — and it’s none of my business at all — 
but when it comes to telephones and for those peo- 
ple— please don’t be angry, Miss Lavillotte ! — it 
does seem absurd.” 

Joyce laughed good-naturedly. His distress was 
genuine. 

“ I know it must from your point of view, but now 
pray listen to mine. I believe that there are cer- 
tain essentials of easy living that ought to be 
practically free to all, and might be, if managed 
correctly. Of these, four are air and water, light 


JOYCE AND HER MANA-GER. 147 

and heat, and the fifth is prompt communication 
with your fellow-men. When my grandmother was 
a girl it cost a neat little sum to send a letter any- 
where, and hundreds of families, unable to bear the 
expense of correspondence, lost sight of each other, 
often for years, sometimes for life, in the unavoid- 
able separation which must come to all growing 
households. After a time this matter appealed so 
strongly to thinking men that they decided to make 
a great national matter of it, and they established 
a wonderful mail service, and have kept lowering 
the rates and adding to the perfection of the serv- 
ice, until now hardly any one is so poor he cannot 
write a line to a friend, if only on a postal card. Now 
a quicker, better means of communication is given us 
in the telephone and telegraph, and I claim that 
these should also be regulated and run by govern- 
ment in the interests of the people, and thus made 
available to all at nominal rates. I can’t control 
Congress, but I can control Littleton with its few 
hundred souls, and that I mean to do in this. 
Every house shall have its ’phone, that every person 
may have the opportunity to express his wants at 
once, or to call in help, if needed.” 

Dalton gave a hopeless shrug. 

“ They’ll use them for gossiping, mostly.” 

“ No, that is to be regulated. The time allowed 
for each separate use will be short, and if any abuse 
the privilege they will be cut off.” 

“Humph! Do you expect one central to man- 
age it all ? ” 


i 4 8 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ Yes, one officer, but not one girl. I shall have 
four people, all told, two girls for day hours and two 
men for night hours. I intend to have them work in 
relays — four hours off and four on. It is too nerv- 
ous a strain for longer hours than that. The night 
operators will have a cot for the one off duty, so 
that if anything unusual happens the waking one 
can call the other. I think it must be doleful to 
stay alone in such a place during those gruesome 
night hours. I couldn’t have it at all.” 

Dalton laughed outright. 

“ Positively, Miss Lavillotte, you are too funny ! 
Do you expect to do away with everything dis- 
agreeable in your model village? ” 

“ I wish I could, but I do not hope for that. Dis- 
agreeable people, who oppose one in everything, 
will always exist, I fear.” Her tone was innocently 
sad. “But I do mean to try and eradicate what is 
unnecessarily disagreeable, if scheming can do it. 
And now, if you are through laughing, Mr. Dalton, 
I will tell you how I propose to pay for this tele- 
phone service without feeling it so severely as you 
seem to think I shall.” 

“ I am listening, madam.” 

“ Well, I have made a contract, only awaiting your 
approval and signature, to furnish the glass insu- 
lators and the jars, so many thousand a year — wait ! 
I have the figures here somewhere. I never could 
remember figures — ah ! here it is — in exchange.” 

“You have? Well, I declare! You really do 
show aptitude for business, Til have to own.” 


70YCE AND HER MANAGER. 


49 


“ Don’t I ? ” laughing with as much pleasure as a 
child that has turned scolding into praise. “ I’m 
delighted about it in more ways than one. It will 
give employment to our unskilled hands, who are 
now idle half the time. Even the children can turn 
a penny on their holidays, if they like.” 

Dalton caught at the paper and looked it over 
with careful scrutiny, his face lighting as he gazed. 

“ Really ! ” he said at length, glancing up to give 
her an approving nod, “ really, this isn’t bad — that 
is, I mean you have made a gofod bargain, for all I 
can see, and given us the opportunity to work up 
a new line that may prove lucrative. I wouldn’t 
have thought it of a girl — a young lady like you.” 

She laughed amusedly. 

“ I’m glad I have been able to please you at 
last, Mr. Dalton ! The electricians will begin 
wiring the town in a few days. They will put in 
a cheap style of ’phone, as it is not looks we are 
after but convenience, and will hurry the work right 
through.” She stopped with some hesitation of 
manner, but looked as if more was to come, and her 
manager gave her a respectful, questioning glance. 

“ There’s another thing,” she said presently in a 
rather faint voice, “ the central office is also to be 
an exchange.” 

“ A — what ? ” 

“ An exchange. You see, that’s really my main 
reason for having the ’phones. I want my people 
to learn what the one right principle of exchange is. 
We talk about money being the medium of all ex- 


150 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

change, and as such it is thought to be the best 
thing on earth. Yet the greed of it is the root of all 
evil. I want to come back to first principles a little, 
and exchange from man to, man, without this perni- 
cious medium that has filled us with covetousness 
and a lack of consideration for others. I want to 
see if people are really so callous and cold to each 
other as they seem, or if this unreadiness to help is 
only because we are too greatly separated by the 
many mediums interposed — which prove barriers in- 
stead of channels. I want to find if every need can- 
not somehow, somewhere, meet its fulfilment, unless 
death itself has shut out the way. It is too limited 
a field, here, to learn absolutely, but it may give us 
some idea, and then ” 

Mr. Dalton had settled back into his chair with a 
non-committal expression, and was drumming on the 
desk before him. 

“ I’m afraid,” he murmured in a concise tone, 
“ that you are talking above my head.” 

Joyce, rudely aroused from her introspective vis- 
ion, looked at him rather blankly a moment, then 
sprang to her feet. At first she seemed offended, 
then cried briskly, with a mischievous air, 

“ And through my hat ? I know that is what you 
wanted to say ! Well, never mind. Some people 
hunt for north poles, some for new continents in 
the tropics, some are content with finding an un- 
classified species of bug. I want to experiment 
with human needs and longings a bit. It is my fad 
just now. You know fads are fashionable.” 


JOYCE AND HER MANAGER. 151 

u Miss Lavillotte, did any one ever tell you that 
you are a despot ? ” 

“I?” Joyce’s eyes opened their widest. “I a 
despot ! ” 

“Yes. You want to rule as absolutely as any 
Czar ; but not only that ; you want to play the part 
of Providence, and watch the workings of your 
will ” 

“ Stop ! Mr. Barrington said that, and I told him 
I wanted my people to play that part to each other. 
And I am right. It was the teaching of Christ. 
‘ Do it in My name ’ — surely it is right ! Mr. Dal- 
ton, it is unfair, even ridiculous, if I may so speak, 
to lay all our mistakes and misdemeanors at the 
door of our Creator. He gives us sense, reason, 
patience, ingenuity. What are they for? To be 
hidden in a napkin till some crushing calamity comes 
and shakes us out of our indifference enough to 
make us exercise them ? No ! They are given us 
to prevent calamity, to wrest from earth, air, and 
sea what is needed for our comfort. He gave man 
dominion. That does not mean just sitting back 
and bearing with resignation. It means using every 
faculty to reduce contending forces to our require- 
ments. Patience is not half a virtue when it simply 
implies an uncomplaining endurance because one 
thinks he must endure. The patience -that will not 
endure, but tries and tries again to rectify the ill is 
the best patience. It never turns aside, never lays 
down its tools, always has a new plan when the old 
is crushed out — that is the real patience ! You call 


1 S 2 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

me a despot — you are unjust! It is only that you 
don’t understand. I do not want to rule for the 
sake of power, but because people are so supine they 
will not learn to rule without being pushed into it. 
I do want to learn to shape circumstances, but not 
to control Littleton. I do wish to teach them what 
self-government really means, though. And see 
how I am placed. Here is this great fortune which 
I will not use for myself partly because my needs 
are simple, partly because — well, because I won’t. 
Thus I am given an opportunity few can have. 
Many have my ideas without the money ; a few 
have the money without the ideas. It happens I 
have both, and I mean to try for myself whether it 
is not possible for a community to live on little 
money and yet have the comforts — yes, even what 
some consider the luxuries — of life, simply through 
perfect co-operation, swift communication, and a 
governing power that is centered in their wishes for 
their best good.” 

She stopped abruptly and put her palms to her 
face with a childlike movement. Her cheeks were 
hot and flushed. 

“ How silly to get so excited ! You will question 
my plans with reason if I cannot keep my head in 
argument.” 

“ One has to question till one can thoroughly un- 
derstand. These are thoughts I have never gone 
into, Miss Lavillotte, I have been in danger of forget- 
ting that there was anything more in life than just 
money-making. Will you tell me more, some day ? ” 


JOYCE AND HER MANAGER. 153 

His humble tone melted Joyce. 

“ Any time you like. And you know, Mr. Dalton, 
you are the real manager of it all. I shall have to 
look to you for the practical application of my 
possibly unpractical ideas. When I soar too high 
you must jerk me down to level ground.” 

“ I begin to think I might like a cloud-ride myself 
occasionally, just for variety’s sake,” he laughed 
“And I’ll do whatever you tell me to, Miss Lavil- 
lotte,” he added stoutly. “ If the Works go to the 
dogs, all right, but you shall be obeyed ! Only — 
may I ask a question ? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ Have you put something safely away for your 
future where it can’t be affected by things here? ” 

“ Have I ? Certainly not ! Do you think I 
would make myself safe and sure when I might be 
wrecking so many ? No, but unfortunately, on my 
mother’s side, they are cautious. My great-uncle 
takes care of the right I have there, and I have 
never been allowed to meddle with it. He sends 
me two hundred dollars a month, and this is all I 
need for my living.” 

“ Do you mean ? ” — His expressive glance swept 
her well-dressed person and she raised her hand 
protestingly. 

“ Don’t ask too many questions ! ” she laughed. 
“ Ellen used to be in a great modiste’s establishment 
and knows the tricks of the trade. My dress and 
table cost me less a year than most women of means 
spend in a month. But good-by — oh ! I forgot to 


154 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

say, Marie Sauzay is to be one of the telephone 
girls.” 

“ Marie ? The cripple ? ” 

“ Yes, she will go to and fro on a tricycle chair, 
and can thus eke out her sister’s earnings. The 
knowledge that she can do this will almost make her 
well, I know. She is so ambitious ! A messenger 
has been negotiating with her and told me of her 
delight in the prospects. The other girl will be a 
trained one sent by the company. Will you select 
my night men ? * They must be sober fellows — pos- 
sibly somebody can be found who is not good in 
the Works.” 

“ I’ll see to it, and, Miss Lavillotte ” 

“Well?” 

“ Who put all these ideas into your head, please ? 
You are so young ! ” 

She smiled, while blushing deeply. 

“ Won’t you give me any credit for originality, 
Mr. Dalton ? How can one tell where one picks up 
ideas? They are like pebbles in our pathway; 
sometimes we never even see them, but carelessly 
scuff them aside as we walk. Then the sun of some- 
body’s genius shines out and shows them to be 
gems, and we hasten to pick them up and claim them 
for our own. I have been taught when to watch 
for the sun’s shining — that’s all ! ” 

She waved her hand, nodded, and hurried out of 
the office, leaving Dalton gazing after her with an 
eager, baffled face. 


CHAPTER XV. 


MOTHER FLAHERTY’S TELEPHONE. 

There was great merriment in Littleton over 
the advent of the telephone. The women gossips 
gathered with their babies in their arms and even 
the men (whom no one would venture thus to name) 
smoked and stood about in groups during all the 
long summer evenings, to discuss this latest marvel. 
Among them, with many differences of opinion, 
there was much laughter and disclaiming. Old 
Mrs. Flaherty declared, amid her giggles, that “ the 
two eyes av the craythur fairly give her a turn,” and 
when asked to explain she pointed to the gongs at 
the top of the apparatus. Lucy Hapgood had heard 
of live wires, and shrank from touching even the 
receiver till repeatedly assured there was no danger 
of electrocution. And when at last she did consent 
to put it to her ear, and heard her father calling to her 
from Cole’s grocery, she shrieked with astonished 
awe. For the telephone was as little known in this 
hamlet as if it had been situated a thousand miles 
from the metropolis, instead of less than two-score. 
The limitations of poverty are great, and even fifty- 
cent fares to the city were seldom compassed, except 
where, possibly, a legal holiday and a wedding fell 
on the same day, and the occasion was made mem- 

*55 


156 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

orable by an outing. Even then the returned 
travelers would have little to relate, except such 
scenes as clustered around the great depot with its 
neighboring lodging-houses and saloons. Of parks, 
galleries, museums, libraries, and palatial dwellings, 
these tourists scarcely dreamed, and never thought 
to visit. All dread those things they do not under- 
stand, and these people would have told you they 
had no wish to see such places ; they were out of 
their line. 

So all of the older and more conservative Little- 
tonians looked with open disfavor upon the new 
“ speaking machines/’ and some absolutely refused 
to use them. In fact, a few did not hesitate to say 
such doings smacked of the evil one, and one old 
dame set her sudsy arms akimbo and stoutly defied 
the electricians to enter her house. 

“You kin string up them wires from here to 
Jerichy, if you want to,” she said sternly, letting 
her lance-like eyes rove in scornful leisure over their 
equipment, “ but you can’t bring ’em inside my dure. 
No, sir ! I don’t want any voices rousin’ me up at 
all hours of the day an’ night. If folks at ’tother 
end o’ town wants to speak to me they knows where 
to find me. I’m a respictable widdy lady what 
keeps to home and minds my own washin’, and they 
can’t no man nor woman, nuther, get a chance to 
sass me through any mash-ine. No, sir 1 I know 
that young Early. He’s got a scheme to see all 
thet’s a-goin’ on amongst us day and night, and I 
won’t have it. ’Tain’t decent, and they ain’t no 


MOTHER FLAHERTY’S TELEPHONE. 15; 

law on his side. So jest git along with you now, 
and don’t take up my time a-wranglin’, for I’ve got 
work to do, if you haven’t.” 

The men, who had stood in dazed silence, looking 
sheepishly at each other, went meekly on their way, 
and one home, at least, boasted no telephone. In- 
deed, to establish that exchange which was Joyce’s 
dream, seemed for a time a ridiculous failure. The 
attempt to make these people understand that only 
good was intended them seemed positively useless. 
When it was again and again reiterated, by means 
of printed dodgers shed broadcast among the homes, 
by Dalton’s talks to the boys in the factory at the 
closing hour, even by Marie Sauzey’s urgings over 
the wire from the central office, that every stringent 
need, or helpful offer, was to be communicated to her 
by telephone, they simply winked at each other, and, 
hanging up the receiver, whispered to any who hap- 
pened to be present, 

“ Didn’t I tell you, now ? It’s spies they are, and 
nothin’ else. Sorra a word do they get out o’ me 
this day ! ” 

But one morning, poor old Mother Flaherty suf- 
fered a sad accident when quite alone in her cottage. 
Trying to balance herself on an uncertain chair, in 
her effort to reach a bottle of medicine on the top 
shelf of her cupboard, her rickety support gave way 
and let her down with cruel celerity. Her poor old 
bones were brittle and snapped with the concussion. 
When she tried to raise herself, after her momentary 
groans and exclamations, she found it impossible, 


158 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

for the left femur was broken. She wavered for a 
time between spells of semi-consciousness, and rous- 
ings to fresh shrieks and wails, the pain growing 
momently more agonizing and the floor more in- 
tolerable in its cold and hardness. But the shouts 
of some children out at play drowned her feeble old 
voice in happier sounds, and no one heard. She had 
given herself up to a lonely, horrible death when 
her wild, roving gaze fell upon the telephone not 
three feet away, and she remembered the oft-re- 
peated injunction to tell her wants into its non-com- 
mittal ear. She had no faith in the thing, and was 
half-afraid of it, believing it a temptation of Satan, 
but the situation had become unbearable. Flesh 
weakened and spirit failed. She would try it as a 
last resort, then cross herself and die. Dragging 
herself painfully with groans and sobs, she managed 
to reach up with a broomstick and jog a faint ring 
out of the gong, at the same time shouting at it in 
a fury of horror and anxiety, 

“ Help ! Help ! Help ! I’m kilt intirely. I want 
a do-octhor ! ” 

The confused sounds that reached Marie were 
vibrating with trouble and despair, but that long- 
drawn “ do-octhor ” came plainly enough for her to 
know what was needed, though she could get no 
response to her agitated questioning. She called 
Dr. Browne up at once, and sent him flying. Poor 
Mrs. Flaherty, meanwhile, had sunk back, almost 
spent with her painful exertion, thinking in her 
desolation, 


MOTHER FLAHERTY’S TELEPHONE. 159 

“ It’s no good at all, at all ! And now I must die 
unshriven, wid that awful sin on me sowl.” 

But suddenly the blissful clatter of a man’s quick 
footsteps aroused her, and she saw, as in a vision, 
the door thrown wide, and the doctor’s commiserat- 
ing face bending above her. His outbreak, “ Well, 
well, well, this is a fix !” sent comfort to her failing 
consciousness as, with a groan of relief, she slipped 
into blissful oblivion. 

There was no time for talk that day, but when 
the old creature was resting in her cast, with her 
nerves soothed into quietude, the next, she looked 
up at her daughter, who had hurried to her bedside, 
and asked huskily, 

“ Norah, tell me thrue ; was it the spakin’-mash- 
ine did it ? ” 

“Did what, mother?” 

“You know, don’t yez? Did it bring the doc- 
thor ? ” 

“ Why, yes. *When you called up the central, of 
course they ’phoned the doctor, and so ” 

“ Norah, will yez shtop thot gabblin’, now ? What 
does I be knowin’ of centhrals, and all thot? Can’t 
you answer plain, yis or no? Did the spakin’- 
mash-ine get me the docthor ? ” 

“ Yes, mother, it did.” 

“ Thin I’m beholden to it. And I take back all 
me hard woords and thochts. Give me another 
sup o’ thot cordial, now, till I go to slape. And ye 
may tell the neighbors, fur me, thot I’ve thried and 
I know yez can get what ye nade fur the askin’ 


160 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

out o’ thim mash-ines. Now be off wid yez — I’m 
going to slape.” 

Of course the word spread, and those who had 
been wise enough to say little in disfavor of the 
innovation plumed themselves upon their superior 
information, while the ranters against it were tem- 
porarily silenced. Joyce, who was burning with 
impatience over their slow acceptance of her bene- 
fits, fairly ached to go among them with vigorous 
exhortations, even commands, but the Madame 
restrained her. 

“I wouldn’t, Joyce,” she said in her ruminant 
tone. “ Let them find out things for themselves. 
It is the only true wisdom, and nobody wants even 
cake thrust down his throat. Try the Lord’s way, 
child. We are slower in accepting His good gifts 
than these people are to believe in yours, yet He 
waits patiently, and in time we learn their worth.” 

One morning, however, soon after Mrs. Flaherty’s 
accident, Joyce made an errand into the central 
office, and while waiting for some distant connec- 
tion to be made ventured to ask some questions of 
Marie who, alert and bright-eyed, sat in her wheeled 
chair, so adjusted that the switch-board was within 
easy reach. 

“You don’t have much to do here, they tell 
me,” she began, smiling at the little Frenchwoman 
in friendly fashion. 

Marie now knew Miss Lavillotte as the resident 
on the knoll, who was popularly supposed to be in- 
terested in schools, possibly with the intention of 


MOTHER FLAHERTY’S TELEPHONE. 161 


teaching some day, and who had means enough to 
run a modest establishment of her own. She an- 
swered eagerly, 

“ But, yes, by times I do. It is the young people 
that do use it most, though. Dose old ones, they 
so mooch vork do all the day that they will not yet 
take time to learn so that it seem not strange to 
them. It will be otherwise in time.” 

“ Do they tell their needs at all?” began Joyce, 
when Marie had to answer a call, and sat smiling in 
that way which seems meaningless to a looker-on 
while some one’s voice holds the attention at the 
other end. Presently she answered in quick tones. 
“Yes, it is so indeed. I will make note, and see if 
it may have answer. Yes. Oh, but that is true! 
Yes. All right, Good-by.” 

Joyce longed, yet hesitated, to ask what the com- 
munication had been, when Marie turned to her. 

“ You but now did ask, ‘ Do they tell their needs ? ’ 
and this was one.” 

“ Really ? What was it ? Pray tell me ! Could 
it be gratified ? I’d so like to know.” 

Marie smiled at the eagerness of her visitor. 

“ I tell you, then. It was Mr. Gus Peters, who 
want somebody to make him one easel, with a draw- 
ing-board that will slide up and down easy, for one 
nice sharp knife with three blade that he will give 
in exchange. He laugh w’en he say it, as if he 
think it no use, though.” 

“ But it ought to be of use. Let’s think, Marie. 
Who can do such things? Somebody that needs a 
ii 


1 62 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

nice knife. Some bright boy, say, with a head for 
such work.” 

Marie thought a minute. 

“ There is a boy,” she said slowly. “ He is not 
good for mooch, but he like that whittle kind of 
work, I know.” 

“ Poor child ! His mother, she is dead, and his 
father he have no time to be kind to him, I think, 
so he wander about and pick up the job here and 
there. It is he that might do this easel.” 

“ Just the thing ! Only he couldn’t get the ma- 
terials together, I fear — wait ! Where does he live ? ” 

“ In a leetle house back behind of the Vorks, and 
a seester zat ees older do housekeep, I believe. She 
is — not good.” Marie spoke reluctantly, and turned 
sad eyes upon Joyce. 

“ Oh ! that is dreadful,” cried the latter.” Per- 
haps — ah ! a ring.” 

Marie was kept busy awhile, several calls succeed- 
ing each other rapidly. 

“Ah! they do plan to make me confuse,” she 
laughed presently, turning back to Joyce. “See! 
I have these demands, and they do all laugh as they 
say them. Lucie Hapgood, she desire a nice ribbon 
blue for her hat ; Mrs. Myron, where a new baby is 
come, do want a somebody to sit wiz her zis after- 
noon, so her seester get a leetle rest ! Joe Granger, 
whose vife is away, do long for one goot dinner zis 
noon and they do need for Mother Flaherty a chair 
which will raise and lower, zat she may rest from 
her bed.” 


MOTHER FLAHERTY’S TELEPHONE. 163 

“ Dear me, it is a jumble ! laughed Joyce. ‘‘Well, 
let me help you out. Don’t Lucy’s children all go 
to school now, except the baby ? ” 

“ The leetle baby — yes.” 

“ Then couldn’t she take it over to Mrs. Myron’s 
till school is out, and look after that lady, who per- 
haps would give her the blue ribbon to pay for the 
service? And ask Norah Flaherty if she won’t let 
Joe Granger come there to dinner, if he will hunt up 
the chair for her mother — and send Joe to me for 
the chair. You will have to keep reminding them 
that an exchange means always giving something 
for what they get ; and if I were you, Marie, when 
they began to tell of a want I should ask at once, 
“ But what have you to give?” That is the impor- 
tant part. You see Gus Peters understood it.” 

“ Yes, I see. And some one haf tell you all ze 
whole plan, I see too,” returned Marie, looking at her 
somewhat wonderingly. 

“ Why, ye-s, I know about it, and it does interest 
me greatly. It’s like a puzzle, somehow. Two and 
two may not always make four, but they will cer- 
tainly make something. Do you mind my plan- 
ing with you a little?” 

“ Not one bit, dear Mees.” 

“ Then let’s fix Gus Peters out. Why not phone 
to that boy — what’s his name ? ” 

“ Wolly, zey call him zat ozzer name, it ees very 
deficult to speak and I forget.” 

“ Oh well, Wolly will do. You know his number 
on the circuit Marie pointed it out and called up the 


164 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

house. Wolly was not there, but his sister seemed 
to think any job would be welcome. The only thing 
was, he had no tools and no lumber, neither had he 
money to buy them. 

“ Now, if some good person who haf ze lumbare 
would but need something,” laughed Marie. 

“ Wait ! I have it. Gus is an architect. There 
is a great deal of building being done. Possibly 
Gus could turn himself in some way to get the lum- 
ber for the boy.” 

“ And gif the knife, too? ” 

“ The work ought to be worth it. May I talk to 
Gus?” 

“ To be sure,” giggling enjoyably, for the whole 
thing seemed a huge joke to the French girl, and 
even to Joyce it began to seem rather a complicated 
affair. She felt certain, still, that her principle 
was all right, but began to perceive that, even so, 
its practical working might be almost an impossi- 
bility. 

“ If I could always be on hand to adjust matters ! ” 
she thought inwardly. “ But I can see that when 
they really begin to use their ’phones at all, as most 
owners of them do, this exchange business would 
become a rather unwieldy affair.” Then Joyce 
sighed so profoundly that Gus heard it at the other 
end, even as he spoke his “ Hello ! ” 

A moment’s talk with him adjusted that matter. 
He said readily enough that he could get the young- 
ster what he needed without the least trouble — all 
he wanted was to be sure and get a decent working 


MOTHER FLAHERTY’S TELEPHONE. 165 

easel, and the knife would be forthcoming. So 
Joyce, relieved for the present, turned eagerly again 
to Marie. 

“ How about Lucy ? Will Mrs. Myron give her 
the blue ribbon ? ” 

“ She ask eef peenk would not do, and I say, talk 
wiz Lucie, and she do. Zat is ze way, of course. 
When one does say what one need we will say, ‘ try 
zo-and-zo,’ and in time efery body will be serve, and 
eferybody happy.” 

“ How quick you are to catch the idea, Marie ! 
It will surely adjust itself as you get used to it. 
And oh ! if it will work. If they can be taught ” 

Joyce caught the other’s astonished glance and 
checked herself instantly, annoyed enough that she 
had come so close to self-betrayal. 

‘‘You see how interested even I can get,” she 
laughed, flushing with embarrassment. “ It is silly of 
me, but it does seem such a novel scheme, and one 
that might help all without impoverishing any, if 
rightly used. I have really been anxious to watch 
its practical working. Thank you for letting me 
bother you so.” 

“ ’Tis no bodder. I like to see you always, Mees 
Lavillotte. Come often and again.” 

“ I will be glad to. And, Marie, when you come 
to a dead-lock — do you know the meaning of that ? — 
when you cannot fit any want with another want, as 
we have been doing now, just ’phone to me and 
perhaps I can help you. Never be afraid of asking 
for anything that is really needed. I have plenty 


1 66 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

of time, and such things interest me. And I have 
ways of getting things that make it easier than for 
some. You will remember this and surely call upon 
me?” 

“ It is verra good you do care,” observed Marie, 
still a good bit amazed. 

“You see I have chosen to make my home in 
Littleton, and I want to be one with you. I want to 
be helpful, as well as to get help.” # 

“ Zat ees a good way to feel. Littleton — zet ees 
our new name, I hear. It do sound strange to me 
yet. We nevare haf a name before. It was just 
the Vorks.” 

“ Do you like the name? ” 

“ Eh, what matters ? ” flinging out her hands in a 
way that proved her Parisian blood and birth. “ It 
will do as well as any other. Littleton — Lavillotte — 
How strange that your name does mean ‘the little 
town,’ also ! Did you know?” 

“ Does it ? ” Joyce felt it was time to flee. This 
Frenchwoman was too keen to be easily answered. 
She nodded brightly, perhaps at the question, per- 
haps to say adieu, and crying back over her shoulder, 
“Remember my request !” hurried away, laughing 
within herself at her narrow escape. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


ON A TRAIL. 

Dan Price was not a guest either opening night 
at the social house. On the contrary, the first even- 
ing, the events of which have been related, he took 
his dinner pail and tackle, and despite the somewhat 
showery state of the atmosphere, pedaled out of the 
settlement towards his woodland haunt as fast as 
will and muscle could carry him. He had a supreme 
contempt for all these new “ notions ” at the Works, 
which he looked upon as the somewhat crazy hob- 
bies of a man too young to realize what they meant, 
and too rich to care how he squandered his money. 
He knew that to go back to the old ways, after a 
taste of the new, would make that state of slavery 
seven times worse than before. Better let them 
alone in w r hat they had become used to ; and, for 
his own part, he wanted no patronizing, he told him- 
self, nor anybody laying down the law as to how he 
should spend his leisure, either. Out of hours he 
was his own master, at least, and nobody need inter- 
fere. There were things in life worse than physical 
hardships — experience had sternly taught him that. 

He would scarcely fling a glance in the direction 
of the well-lighted building, towards which already 
the younger tide of humanity was setting, and his 

167 


1 68 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

dark face took on a sneer when he noted their evi- 
dent excitement over the event. 

“ Always caught with something new ! ” he 
muttered to himself. “ One would think it more 
decent to give up hoping sometime, but they never 
seem to. Haven’t we been cheated with fair 
promises year after year — promises that were as 
empty as a glass bulb? And yet they all bite just 
as readily as ever. Even the chronic grumblers, 
like Murfree, Hapgood, and that gang, are begin- 
ning to come over. It makes me tired ! ” 

As he reached a certain cottage he pedaled faster 
than ever, and with his head bent nearly to the 
handle-bars, flew by without a glance, or pause. 
Yet, without looking, he had discerned Rachel 
standing on the new square porch, exceptionally 
trim and stiff in a light muslin, while the children 
swarmed about her admiringly. He could also 
hear Mrs. Hemphill, from indoors somewhere, 
screaming her commands to the scattered family in 
a high key, though no one seemed paying the 
slightest attention. Had he been able to see out of 
the back of his head, as they say some women can 
do, he would have discovered that the smile died 
out of Rachel’s face as he whizzed by, that she gazed 
after him a moment with a sober look, then turned 
and went into the house, answering her mother’s 
remarks with a sharp, 

“ Well, what is it ? ” 

Dan, meanwhile, tore ahead, leaving all artificial 
lights b.ehind him, and sighed with relief when lone- 


ON A TRAIL. 169 

liness wrapped him around, so that he might relax 
a bit and take a long breath, for he was weary. 

It was still far from being really dark, though 
dusky in the shadows, and, as he was wading the 
brook, something that was not a shadow seemed to 
move amid the darker smudges of the vine tangles 
and underbrush surrounding his little bower. He 
stopped splashing and peered intently, but saw noth- 
ing to confirm the impression and concluded it was 
but the waving of a branch, or the leap of a squirrel 
from bough to bough. But no sooner had he 
stepped foot on the soil than he saw someoneTtad 
been here since his last visit, at least three weeks 
before. Vines had been torn down so that the en- 
trance was visible, there were traces of a camp-fire 
on the sands at his feet, and he could see broken 
tree-twigs and limbs scattered about, as if in prepara- 
tion for another. A chill crept over him at thought 
of this intrusion, and he looked around, half fear- 
fully, as if expecting that someone might spring out 
from the deeper wood and dispute possession with 
him. 

Keeping an anxious lookout to sides and rear he 
hastily entered the little leaf-tent, and saw, with a 
sort of despair, that it had been oqcupied. He al- 
most groaned to see the scattered leaves from his 
bed in the corner, but was somewhat consoled to 
find that evidently no one had discovered the open- 
ing below. 

“Some tramp,” he thought. “It’s queer they 
should find this place, so entirely off their routes, 


170 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

though. I wonder if that was the brute I saw skip- 
ping out, then ? I’ve a notion to hunt him down. 
He’s spoiled my rest for to-night, anyhow. And I 
never can feel safe again till I know who it was, and 
what it wanted.” 

But the possession of his wheel hampered him. 
He did not like to leave it, perhaps to be stolen, 
and it would be almost impossible to make his way 
through the brush with it. In a quandary he stepped 
forth again, to stand an instant among the over- 
hanging vines, making up his mind. He was so 
placed as to be invisible from the brookside, though 
he could see it plainly through the vine’s inter- 
stices, and in that instant there saw a flash of some- 
thing black against the vista of light, and he knew, 
rather than saw, that a man had leaped across the 
brook where it narrowed suddenly, further down. 
The spray of the up-leaping water, as he jumped 
short, sparkled in the pale rays of a rising moon. 

At this his resolution was formed. The man, 
whoever he was, had evidently headed for town. 
Dan decided instantly, to cross the brook higher 
up, at another narrow spot, take to the road, mount 
his wheel, and ride by this piece of woods as if with 
no object in view, then, when well ahead, hide in 
some good place and intercept him — or at least see 
who he might be. It did not take him long to re- 
cover the road, mount his wheel, and start. No- 
body was yet in sight, but he had not expected to 
see anybody. The tramp would doubtless skulk 
along behind the fences till sure Dan was gone, then 


ON A TRAIL. 


171 

come out and trudge after as fast as possible. Such 
was the program the young man mapped out for 
him, at least. Once, as he toiled through a sandy 
reach, he was sure he saw the fellow skulking be- 
hind a rail fence, but he whistled negligently as he 
sprinted by and did not seem to notice, though the 
perspiration started a little at thought that this 
might be a desperate character, on his very heels, 
and well armed. 

He kept up his pace, anxious to get to a certain 
spot he had fixed upon as his point of lookout. He 
presently reached it and, slowing up, gazed well 
about him. Nobody was in sight, and dusk was 
now real darkness. Still the moon, when not ob- 
scured by clouds, shone brightly. Just now their 
veil was thick, and a slight shower was beginning 
to fall. If these should part, any one crossing the 
road before him would show clearly against the sky. 

He dismounted, hid his wheel behind a thick 
growth of untrimmed poplar saplings, and made 
himself comfortable in the dry bed of a ditch which 
crossed the road and was bridged over with a few 
planks. In the shadow cast by this bridge he 
crouched and, leaning against a boulder, settled him- 
self for patient waiting. A great bull-frog, which 
had dropped out of sight at his approach, soon re- 
turned again, and croaked hoarsely of his personal 
affairs. For, in wet weather, this was a marshy 
spot, and he remembered happier days. Presently 
the clouds parted and the moon sent a brilliant 
spear shaft through the rent, making it almost like 


1 72 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

day. A startled peewit cried out, from his nest 
under the planking, that he had overslept, but was 
calmed into drowsiness by his wife’s assuring tones ; 
and a noisy beetle of some kind boomed and buzzed 
around, as if intoxicated by the very thought of 
daylight. Listening intently, amid all this soft 
murmur of sound, Dan presently began to hear afar 
the rhythmic beat of footsteps, falling hard and fast 
upon the beaten soil. His man was approaching. 

He gathered himself together and slowly rose, 
creeping close to the wooden buttress of the bridge 
and staying well in its shadow. The footsteps grew 
plainer, and now, into the well-lighted road, a figure 
swung with long, wavering strides. It was not tall, 
but very spare, and was crowned with a bullet head 
set between high shoulders. But the face, as it 
flashed into and out of the narrow strip of moon- 
light, seemed strangely familiar, yet unnatural too. 

Dan with difficulty repressed his exclamation of 
astonishment, and strained forward to make certain 
if this really were the man he took him to be. But 
turning neither to right nor left, the fellow plodded 
on, evidently in a labored way, and was almost in- 
stantly swallowed up in the shadows. The watcher 
drew a long breath. 

“Was it Lozcoski?” he muttered presently. 
“ Why, how did the man get out ? And what does 
he want around here? He must be crazy to come 
into this neighborhood ! If Murfree should know 
he wouldn’t be comfortable, I reckon. I believe I 
ought to follow him and make certain somehow — I 


ON A TRAIL. 


173 

must ! No telling what might happen, if they 
should meet.” 

He hurriedly led out his wheel, remounted it, and 
sped onward, determined to keep the man in sight. 
His amazement was great to find that the trail led 
straight as beaten paths would permit, to the very 
door of the new Social house, now filled with lights 
and people, and forming a conspicuous object in the 
little hamlet. Dan reached there but a rod or two 
behind his man, and saw him slip into the open 
doors and mingle with the crowd. 

He began to think the likeness which had led him 
this last chase was an illusion, after all, and that the 
fellow must be some new workman, who had by 
chance discovered his woodland retreat and con- 
sidered it public property. 

But if that man were Lozcoski then Murfree ought 
to know. For, though Dan did not fancy the ranter 
and his ways, he was his close neighbor and be- 
longed to the same union, which was reason enough 
why he owed him this duty. 

Smoothing himself into shape as well as he could, 
the lad hid his wheel under the portico and stepped 
inside, trying to look bold in order to cover his bash- 
ful qualms, for he was as afraid of a social crowd as 
a fox of a pack of hounds. It was thoroughly brave 
of him to face these lights and people to warn a man 
not a special friend, and proved the loyal strain in 
his nature. Possibly, had he stopped to think, he 
might have weakened and fled. But the excitement 
of the chase still dominated him, and he had given 


174 JOYCE'S INVESTMENT. 

himself no time for consideration before plunging 
in. Now, the buzz of talk and laughter sounded all 
about him ; somebody slapped him on the back with 
a laugh of astonishment, and he began to realize 
what an impossible sort of thing he had done. 

He wanted to turn and run out into the blessed 
darkness, but they hemmed him in, and, dazed by 
what seemed to him the luxury on every side, he 
hesitated and was lost. For, just then, a group of 
the younger people surged by and wrapped him 
around in a whirl of merry chaff. 

“ Hello ! Here’s Dan.” 

“ Come along, Dan ! Thought you wasn’t going 
to any party, eh ? ” 

“ Couldn’t stand it outside, could you, boy?” 

“ Thought to-morrow was your night, Dan, but 
you’re welcome, old fellow ! ” 

They seized him by each arm, and, overcoming 
his mute resistance, dragged him into the first 
parlor. He managed to wriggle loose after a bit, 
however, and watched his opportunity made a dart 
for the smaller one off, and rushed into an alcove 
somewhat in shadow, intending to escape entirely 
later on. As he stumbled into its shelter some one, 
half hidden by the tall back of a chair, turned and 
met him face to face. It was Rachel Hemphill, and 
she was as pale as he when she realized who had so 
summarily invaded her retreat. 

“ Why, Dan ! ” she said under her breath. “ Is — 
are you — what has happened ? ” 

“ Sh-h ! Rachel.” He stepped past her and 


ON A TRAIL. 


175 


wedged himself in behind the chair, where he was 
well protected. “ I’ve got no business here. I ain’t 
dressed up. But I followed a man — I thought I 
knew him. Say, Rachel, do you remember Loz- 
coski ? ” 

“ Lozcoski ? Why — oh, do you mean that low 
fellow that tried to fire the Works?” 

“ That's the fellow.” 

“Of course I do! Why?’* She stepped closer 
and stood over him — she was taller than he — in such 
a way that no one could see him from the room be- 
yond. “ But Dan, he’s in prison, isn’t he? Don’t 
you know how they said he raved and took on in 
his jargon, and nobody could understand him. He 
couldn’t speak English at all, could he ? ” 

“ Not much. They managed to make out he was 
furious with Murfree, though — I suppose because he 
denounced him — and evidently was making threats 
against the old man. At any rate he kept up some 
kind of a howl about him all the time. I s’pose I 
ought to make sure, and let Murfree know, if ’tis 
him.” 

“ You don t mean that Lozcoski’s here, do you ? ” 

“ Well, that’s the question. I — I wish you’d 
look him up for me, Rachel. I ain’t fixed up for 
this, and I want to get out.” 

He spoke almost pathetically, shrinking back into 
his corner like a scared child, and Rachel’s eyes be- 
gan to dance. Something in the situation pleased 
her wonderfully. That Dan, who had scarcely 
spoken to her since the tragedy of his brother’s 


176 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

death, should be cringing and pleading before her, 
all his prideful gloom quivering into a girlish terror 
of being seen in old clothes, was very satisfying to 
her. She would have liked to prolong the situation, 
but could not bring herself to torture her old play- 
mate. 

“ I’ll go, Dan,” she whispered, “ and you stay here 
till I get back. I’ll bring Murfree to you, for he 
might not pay any attention to me. Nobody’ll 
notice you if you keep this big chair before you. 
Just squat down on that round footstool thing in 
the corner. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

Dan squatted, nodding meekly. Rachel adjusted 
the chair with attention, then hurried away, after a 
last glance at her captive, a new light on her really 
high-bred face. As she passed out into the hall she 
saw her mother in loud and busy talk, and hurried 
to her side. 

“ I’ve decided not to go quite yet,” she said quickly, 
“ so don’t wait if you’re ready.” 

“ Oh, you have ? What’s up ? Thought you 
was ’most tired to death just now. You don’t look 
much tuckered, seems to me.” 

Rachel laughed lightly. 

“ Well, I’m beginning to find some fun in it, 
mother ! I want to stay a little longer. I’ve got 
the shawl you sent me for — it lay on a big chair 
where you left ft — and now I’m hunting up some- 
thing else. Good-night, and don’t wait for me.” 

She flitted on, her mother and companion gazing 
after her. 


ON A TRAIL. 


177 


“ Looks loike Rache has found a beau, or is look- 
ing for one,” giggled Mother Flaherty, showing her 
yellow fangs with unpleasant recklessness. (This, 
you will remember, was before her accident.) But 
Mrs. Hemphill resented this with dignity. 

“ I guess you must ’a’ forgot she and Will Price 
was keepin’ comp’ny when that gun went off and 
shot him. She don’t never say much — Rache don’t 
— but she’s gret to remember. And she ain’t look- 
in’ for beaux yet, I can tell you.” 

But the old Irishwoman only bobbed her wide 
cap borders to and fro and giggled again, as if not 
wholly convinced. 

It was while Rachel thus stopped in the hall to 
speak with her mother that Larry was haranguing 
the crowd at the doors of the refreshment rooms, 
and when she presently returned to poor Dan, still 
crouched upon the hassock, her report was as fol- 
lows : 

“ I saw Tonguey Murfree going in to supper with 
that handsome Miss Lavillotte — and a queer thing, 
too, for her to notice him, I thought — but all of a 
sudden he left her at the very door and rushed out 
through the front hall, so I guess he went home. 
But Dan, I had just a glimpse of a man pushing his 
way in, and it made me think of Lozcoski. But 
such a looking face ! It was a mere glimpse, but I 
could only think of some animal. It wasn’t just 
human. Do you suppose it was him ? ” 

“ Don’t know,” said Dan. “ Anyhow it’s all right, 
if Murfree keeps out of his way, and he will proba- 
12 


178 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

bly, if he’s gone home. I’ll stay till they come out 
from supper, and see the man again.” 

He said this in an odd voice, and did not look at 
Rachel. He seemed to be making concessions to 
somebody, and to be ashamed of doing it. After a 
look into his upraised eyes, which were full of a 
trouble she could not quite fathom, she dropped 
into the sheltering chair, and said gently, 

“Dan, I’ve wanted a talk with you so long! 
Have I done anything to make you give me the 
cold shoulder? Or — or is it just that I make you 
think — of him ? ” 

He threw up one hand, as if to ward off a blow. 

“ I can’t let anybody talk about that. Don’t 
Rachel!” 

“ I won’t, I won’t, Dan ! I didn’t mean to hurt 
you,” soothingly. “ But you make me feel, some- 
how, as if I had been doing something wrong to 
you, and you know I wouldn’t, Dan. We were all 
such good friends together — then.” 

Her dark eyes looked down upon him pleadingly, 
and her fine face showed an emotion greater than 
her limited vocabulary could express in words. 

Sometimes, though, words are less explanatory 
than looks. If Dan had once glanced up — but his 
eyes seemed glued to the floor. It was of hard 
wood, and its polished surface danced before him as 
he tried to steady himself to answer. 

“ I ain’t blaming you,” he muttered, “ only — ” 

“ Only what, Dan ? ” 

He made a movement of his head that suggested 


ON A TRAIL. 


179 


a trapped animal, then suddenly stood up and looked 
at her, as if in desperation. She rose also, pale and 
startled. 

“Don’t you s’pose I know how you feel ?” he 
murmured, while his large eyes glowed like coals 
in the shadows. “You’re kind, but — but I don’t 
want — pity. I know how I must seem to you, even 
if you try not to give up to it. When ’twas as it 
was I’ve got sense enough not to stay around and 
remind you ” 

But just then there was a shout, a rush, excited 
cries and screams. Some one knocked over the 
chair which had screened them so loyally, and from 
which Rachel had just risen. Dan had caught one 
word, “ Fight ! Fight ! ” and conscience-smitten 
over his negligence in warning Murfree, sprang to- 
wards the hall from which the cries came, leaving 
Rachel alone. But she felt no special interest in a 
rough encounter between two men towards whom 
she was utterly indifferent. Their fate could not 
thrill her as did the memory of Dan’s burning words. 
What did they mean ? Had she the clue to conduct 
on his part which had grieved her sorely. She 
could not help a glow of expectation, and a thrill 
of pleasure. It was at this moment Joyce caught 
the radiant look on her face, and shared to a degree 
in that hidden gladness, through the sweet sympathy 
and friendliness of the glancie she gave the girl who 
had half repulsed her but an hour, or two, before. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


DODO. 

It was a glorious morning. Joyce, romping 
around the lawn chased by Dodo, and much wound 
up with the cocker spaniel, Robin, did not see 
George Dalton as he entered her grounds from the 
front entrance, opposite the park. There was no 
reason why he should not mount the front steps and 
ring the doorbell, but a carriage-way led to a side 
entrance, and he felt certain that the gay laughter 
he could hear belonged to the person he had come 
to seek. So, guided by his ears, he followed this 
driveway till he could see the frolicking trio, then 
stopped abruptly before being himself discovered, 
and stepped behind a bed of tall cannas, where he 
deliberately peeped through the interstices of the 
massive foliage, his eyes shining with pleasure over 
the pretty sight. 

It seemed a pity to him that he must tell his busi- 
ness and see that laughing young face settle into 
the maturer lines of thought and calculation. He 
would have liked to keep care and trouble far from 
it. But Robin, darting and tumbling about after a 
ball, pitched erratically in any direction but the 

right one from Dodo’s plump little paw, soon found 
180 


DODO. 


81 


him out, and the puppy set up such a terrific bark- 
ing as compelled attention. 

“ I surrender ! ” he cried, with a deprecating look 
at Joyce as he emerged. “ I was just— just botan- 
izing, you know.” Delighted that she broke into 
merry laughter over the palpable fib he joined in, 
adding presently, “ Pardon me, but you all looked 
so jolly ! And you know I don’t often see you this 
way.” 

“ I should hope not ! ” hastily pinning up a stray 
tress, and wrapping her gown frills around a rent 
made by the over-eager spaniel. “Down, Robin, 
down ! You tear one to pieces when you get so 
excited. Pray come in, Mr. Dalton, and Dodo dear, 
run home with Wobin a little while now. We’ll 
finish our play later.” 

Before Dodo had time to raise a protest, Mr. 
Dalton broke in, pleadingly, 

“ Mightn’t we sit here, Miss Lavillotte ? I see 
chairs under the big tree, and it’s so charming out 
there.” 

“ Oh, yes,” added Dodo, seeing her advantage, 
“we can tay out heah, Doyce, an’ I’ll talk to my 
doggy while you talk to — dat ozzer one,” nodding 
her head shyly towards Dalton. 

“ Why Dodo ! ” cried the young hostess, half 
shocked, though wholly amused. But as Dalton 
again broke out she joined him, Dodo quite imper- 
sonally adding her cadenza. 

She was delighted to feel that Joyce was 
not going to be sober and disagreeable with this 


182 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

visitor, and send her home before her play was 
out. 

“ I think we’ll get on thus paired off — I and the 
other dog,” he said, taking the chair Joyce indicated 
and dropping luxuriously back into its spreading 
seat, with his hands laid along its broad arms. 
“ How delightful this is ! Who could have dreamed, 
a twelve-month ago, that this scraggy bluff could be 
made into such beautiful homes, and that the dis- 
mal flat-iron below, dumping-place for tincans, frit, 
and cinders, as it was, could bloom out into that neat 
grassy park with growing trees along its walks, and 
flower-beds everywhere. Truly, money talks.” 

“ Not money alone, Mr. Dalton. Something else 
must talk with it, seems to me.” 

“ Oh, energy and taste to be sure.” 

“ And good will.” 

“ Granted, but ” 

“ Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! ” in shrieks from Dodo, who flies 
to Joyce’s arms, Robin tearing beside her, vindict- 
ively shaking something limp and tousled in his 
sharp white teeth. “ It’s mine dolly, mine dolly. 
Oh, Doyce!” 

The rag doll rescued from oblivion and Robin 
boxed, Mr. Dalton thought it time to introduce his 
business, and began : 

“ I came, as always, on a matter which con- 
cerns your affairs, Miss Lavillotte. I wanted to 
say ” 

“ Isn’t my Doyce doin’ to hab ’fweshments foh 
her comp’nay,” broke in an insinuating little voice, 


DODO. 


183 

in sweetest accents. “ I corned back to tell you 
’twould be perlite. Dat’s de way my mamma does,” 
and Dodo, first on one foot, then the other, per- 
formed a sort of fetish dance around the two, pray- 
ing for the burnt offerings. 

“ Yes, yes, presently Dodo. Go on in, and ask 
Katie to send out cakes and lemonade, if you like. 
Now, Mr. Dalton.” 

“ Yes, as I was about to say, I wanted ” 

“ Tan we hab tookies ? ” from Dodo. 

“ Of course, cookies if you want. Now run 
along ! ” 

“ Tan we hab toast-tookies ? ” persisted the bit of 
femininity. 

Dodo had a way of lumping everything in the 
line of cookery that was brown and crisp under the 
name of “toast,” from potatoes to pie. The cookies 
she referred to were simply a toothsome molasses 
cake, spread out thin and cut into crisp delicious 
squares, which Katie kept in a jar with rounded 
sides, after breaking apart. That jar was a mine of 
riches to the child, and those sweeties her pet con- 
fection. In fact, she had readily taken the large 
contract of keeping the jar from overflowing, and 
was the principal consumer of “ toast cookies.” 
Smiling helplessly, Joyce assented. 

“ Yes, toast-cookies it shall be.” 

She gave the child a little push and nodded to- 
wards her manager to urge haste. He galloped 
ahead. 

“ I wanted to say that this escaped criminal does 


1 84 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

prove to be Lozcoski, the man I told you of who 
attempted once to fire the Works. He had heaped 
kindlings, dipped in kerosene, wherever a bit of 
woodwork gave opportunity to start a blaze. He 

was caught by Murfree, and ” 

“ I telled her, Doyce,” panting with the haste of 
her precipitate return. “ I telled her, and she said 

’Umph ! ’ but I dess she will. Say, Doyce ” 

“ Hush, Dodo ! Mr. Dalton is talking, and you 
must be quiet. Shall I hold you ? ” 

“ No, no, I don’t want to be church-’till. I want 
to womp.” 

“ Well, go and ’womp ’ then, bless you ! And be 
quick about it.” 

“ But I wants to eat first.” 

“Talk fast, Mr. Dalton. She is pouting now, 
and you may get in a sentence or two.” 

He met her merry look with a very kindly one. 

“ I see you can be patient, Miss Lavillotte. 
Well, as this Lozcoski set fire to your Works and 
was imprisoned on that indictment, he has been re- 
arrested to serve out his sentence. He escaped from 
prison one night when a fire in the dormitories had 

demoralized the discipline. He ” 

“ It’s tomin’ ! It’s tomin’ ! Dere’s de lemmade 
and tookies, Doyce. See, see ? ” 

The young lady put a white hand over the child’s 
restless lips and nodded vigorously towards her 
manager, who continued rapidly : 

“ He hid in the woods till that night of the party, 
waiting for a chance at Murfree, I presume, for he 


DODO. 


185 


is bitter against him yet. But, driven desperate by 
hunger, he came into town, and the smell and 
sight of the feasting nearly crazed him, I imagine. 
So ” 

“ Doyce ! Doyce! Heah’s Katie waitin’. Where’ll 
we hab de table ? Why don’t you pay ’tention to 
Katie? Where’s de table-cloff ? Oh, oh, if she puts 
it down on dat twee-bench Wobin will eat it all 
up ! ” 

Joyce put out a warning hand again, and kept 
her eyes on Dalton’s. 

“ And so — and so — dear me! I’m all in a mix- 
up. Can’t remember what I was going to say, but 
the gist is, you will have to go into court to swear 
something ” 

“ Doyce, I fink you is aw-wful naughty ! Pooh 
Katie is so tired.” 

“ Well, you see Mr. Dalton — it’s no use. Let us 
eat and drink, for to-morrow we die ! Dodo, you 
are the great American nuisance, in person. Katie, 
give me that tray and run back for the little rustic 
stand in the arbor — oh, thank you, Mr. Dalton! 
Now, Dodo, sit down there and don’t speak till you 
have eaten that cookie all up. 

“ Two tookies, Doyce. Two-o tookies ! ” 

“ Very well, two or twenty, only that you remain 
tongue-tied meanwhile. Shall I give you a glass, 
Mr. Dalton ? ” 

“ It’s dood ! ” from Dodo, sipping ecstatically 
from her special little mug, filled by Katie, and 
taking great scalloping bites out of her square cake, 


1 86 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

while Robin, planted directly before her, but as 
quiveringly as if on coiled springs, watched every 
bite, snapping his own jaws each time in acutest 
sympathy. 

“Yes, and two-o tookies, please,” laughed the 
man with a warm feeling of comfort and sweetness 
wrapping him round like a soft blanket. “ And 
let’s give it up for a while and be happy.” 

“Why not?” returned Joyce, obliviously. 
“ Here’s the plate of cakes at your elbow. Eat them 
all if you will. There are plenty more.” 

A shriek from Dodo, who has dropped half of 
hers and seen it incontinently snapped up and 
gorged by Robin. Of course the shriek ends in a 
choking cough, as her mouth is full, and Mr. Dalton 
has to snatch her up and turn her face downwards, 
while Joyce paddles her little back till the morsel 
is ejected. When they have all got their breaths 
again — the dog meanwhile having sneaked a whole 
cake from the plate and fled to a safe distance — they 
subside into a restful silence for a space. George 
Dalton’s hair is somewhat rumpled, and Joyce’s 
cheeks are red. Neither laughs outright, but both 
long to. It is a decided relief from the tension 
when a maid appears from the other house, and 
Miss Dodo is carried off for her nooning nap, kick- 
ing vigorously. They sit back and sip their iced 
drinks relishingly. The morning is warm and Joyce’s 
lovelocks are tightly curled against her wet fore- 
head. She mops it daintily with a bit of cambric 
and lace, and he watches her silently, while the 


DODO. 


187 

branches of the tree above his head sway softly 
against each other, and the leaves whisper confid- 
ingly way up in the clear ether. 

The busy man feels the charm of it as he has 
seldom felt such things before, and Joyce feels his 
pleasure and is glad over it, but secretly thinks it 
quite time for him to finish his business and be 
gone. Her appearance is far from tidy, and she is 
half expecting a friend from the city out to lunch- 
eon. At length, in a dreamy way, he takes up the 
narrative so often interrupted. 

“ I was going to give a few more details about 
the Pole. You knew about the way he acted in 
the Social-house — his ravenous ways over the food ? ” 
“Yes, I saw him/’ shuddering a little. 

“ He had been starving for three days. The 
officers were fast on his track and arrested him hot 
from the fight. Had he not seen Murfree I pre- 
sume he would have made his way back to the 
woods safely. But they came in by train just in 
time to learn of his queer actions and nab him. 
Not a minute too soon, either. He had nearly 
choked the life out of his accuser.” 

“ How is Murfree, Mr. Dalton ? ” 

“ Pretty well used up. I never saw him so com- 
pletely cowed. It knocked all the eloquence out 
of him for once. The man is a crank and an agita- 
tor. I have kept my eye on him for some time. 
He is a fairly good workman in his line, though, 
and just now can’t do much harm, as times are easy 
and these new improvements of yours keep the 


188 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

people busy with other interests. But he would 
stir them all up, if he could. 

“And the other — Lozcoski — is he in prison 
again ? ” 

“ No, he was hurt, too. He is in the jail hospital. 
What with his starving and all, he is quite ill. 
There is some legal hitch, too, about his re-commit- 
ment, and you and I are to be summoned to testify 
as to various matters concerning the Works. It 
will necessitate a journey into town. And shall I 
plan to go with you?” He was quite the business 
manager again. 

“ Certainly, if you will be so kind.” 

“ I would advise taking Mr. Barrington with us to 
the jail. He can coach us as to details.” 

“ Yes,” said Joyce thoughtfully. “ And we must 
try and get at the bottom of the affair this time. 
Must you go now ? ” for he had risen with a resolute 
air. 

“ Indeed I must. I don’t know when I have spent 
such a lazy — and happy — morning ! ” 

“ Next time we’ll have to banish naughty Dodo. 
Isn’t she a persistent baby ? ” 

“ A very charming one, though. Good-morning ! ” 
He made her a stiff little bow, and hurried away 
without so much as one look behind him. But as 
he passed the next house, and heard a voice near 
some upper window crooning a lullaby, he smiled 
to himself, and whispered, 

“ Blessed little Dodo ! Sweet sleep and happy 
dreams.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

NATE TIERNEY. 

The heated spell was succeeded by a week of 
chilling rains. These made the children appreciate 
the arcade leading from the park to the school-house, 
and one afternoon they were romping up and down 
its cement roadway, just after school was out. Even 
Mrs. Hemphill’s younger brood was there, for the 
delight of the youngsters in their classes, which em- 
braced lessons in carpentry, husbandry, electrical 
sci-ence, cookery, sewing, nursing, and so on, had 
so infected them that they simply could not be kept 
at home. 

Joyce’s school, planned to the least detail, under 
the Madame’s instruction, was not quite like any 
other known. Text-books were used, to be sure, 
and classes were, in a sort, graded, but books played 
a smaller part than usual in the teachings of each 
day, and every task of the pupils was so put into 
actual practice as to make it a lesson of experience, 
if possible. 

For instance, little Tirza Hemphill, before she 
learned to rattle off her table of dry measure, as 
other school children do, had discovered its scale 
for herself, by practical application. A series of 

189 


190 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

measures was set out in a row, from pint to bushel, 
while a great box of shelled corn stood by, and she 
was told to begin with the smallest in order to find 
out for herself how many times it must be emptied 
into the next to fill it, and so on to the bushel. 
The increased size of the receptacle here, made it 
necessary to take the rest on trust, but being assured 
by actual measurement that the pints, quarts, and 
bushels were correct, she was prepared to believe 
the rest. 

As to the classes in needle-work, cookery, and 
house service, they answered the purpose of recesses 
between the book lessons, and were considered great 
fun by the girls, while the boys equally enjoyed 
their hammering, outdoor husbandry, and telegraph 
operating. 

It took room, but they had plenty of that in 
Littleton, and one part of the ample school grounds 
was the farm and garden. It took tools, and they 
cost money, but some were very primitive, often 
made by the more ingenious lads, themselves ; and 
when Wolly of the unpronounceable surname actu- 
ally made a little wheeled cultivator, the harrow 
being the tooth from a broken horse-rake, and the 
two wheels a relic from a defunct doll-wagon, he 
was considered the hero of the school. It took a 
stove and kitchen, but they used the one in the 
Social-house, going to and fro in procession, with a 
teacher in charge. 

It was indeed a novel school, and one just out 
from a stiff, starched, eastern graded Grammar 


NATE TIERNEY. 


191 

school might have raised his hands in holy horror. 
Still there was no lack of method, nor of discipline, 
and each class, be it held out-doors or in, was made 
to understand that good work was required. All 
was orderly enough, even when the noon class went 
through the ceremony of serving a neat meal, and 
eating it in quiet decency. 

The older pupils were intensely interested in the 
banking class, the teacher acting as president, and 
two or three being chosen as cashier, teller, and 
clerk. They were furnished with neatly stamped 
coins and bills, such as are sold for toy money, and 
the rest of the class became depositors and learned 
how to draw and deposit, to count readily, to make 
change, to make out checks, to compute interest, 
discount bills, buy drafts, etc., etc. 

Once Mr. Dalton asked Joyce, with that cynicism 
which belonged to him, 

“ Why do you have the poor little beggars taught 
this sort of business ? That they may learn to value 
the money they may never possess?” and she had 
flashed around upon him with the answer, 

“ They will possess it ! Do you for an instant be- 
lieve our scholars are to be kept in bondage to one 
solitary trade ? They will not all be glass-blowers, 
I can promise you.” 

In fact, already these, little financiers were substi- 
tuting real money for the spurious pretense, and 
Saturday mornings they came to deposit their penny 
savings in the bank kept by their teacher, or to 
draw, with interest, their savings of weeks. In order 


i 9 Z JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

to encourage frugality, this interest was compounded, 
after the principal had been left in bank for three 
months, silver to be returned where only copper had 
been deposited. Behind all this stood Joyce’s use- 
ful millions and the Madame’s guiding hand. 

It was not a great while before the mothers began 
to come in with their petty savings, also, and after 
a long talk with Mr. Barrington, one day, a real 
banking institution was incorporated, with the stock 
issued in dollar shares. Mr. Barrington, as president, 
headed the list of stockholders with a hundred, 
Miss Lavillotte following with seventy-five, while 
Mr. Dalton, Madame Bonnivel, and Larry Driscoll 
were all down for fifty, or less. 

It was a delightful little bank, where pennies stood 
for dollars, where everyone had confidence in every- 
body else, where no other banks could make or 
break, and where the assets were so in excess of the 
liabilities that it could not be touched by panic. 
Every three months there was to be a change of 
clerks, though the officers were retained. This was 
to give each scholar an opportunity of learning all 
the practical routine of a bank, also, to offer facili- 
ties for the handling and counting of money. 

I have enlarged upon the bank more than its rel- 
ative importance warrants. Really, the domestic 
economy classes were given greater prominence in 
the school, and the changes these well-taught chil- 
dren gradually introduced into their sordid home 
life were many and excellent. 

Mother Flaherty was so electrified over the tin of 


NATE TIERNEY. 


193 

light, sweet rolls her little grand-daughter made for 
supper, one evening, that she caught it up with the 
dish-towel and ran a block to Mrs. Hemphill’s, to 
display the golden-brown beauties before allowing 
one of the family to touch them. But, a few days 
later, Mrs. Hemphill, not to be outdone, invited 
Mother Flaherty in to tea, and they were served to 
a neat little meal by Tirza and Polly, where every 
article, from the smoking-hot croquettes to the really 
delicate custard and cakes, was the work of these 
two little girls. It was an honest rivalry, which 
hurt nobody, and the men, better fed at their even- 
ing meal, began to linger at home to join in the 
children’s geographical and other games, picked up 
at school, or to accompany their families over to the 
Social-house, to listen to the orchestra made up of 
their older sons, to hear Miss Lavillotte play and 
sing, to witness an exhibition of kinetoscope pic- 
tures, or sometimes just to meet other friends and 
simply bask in the light and ease of the pretty 
rooms. They almost forgot Lon’s place, even, as 
they gazed contentedly about, and enjoyed the 
bright open fire in the immense hall grate, which 
these cool nights made welcome. 

While the pendulum of our narrative has been 
swinging back and forth through these many months 
of effort, the children whom we left playing in the 
arcade are still awaiting us, enjoying their outdoor 
freedom, but well protected by its roof from the 
damp weather. Their modes of playing are not 
quite the same as those of a year ago. There is 
!3 


194 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

boisterousness, to be sure, but less cruelty, and far 
less profanity. The dogs join merrily in the frolics, 
now, with no dread of old tin-can attachments, and 
even little crippled Dosey Groesbeck lingers about on 
his crutches, not expecting them to be knocked from 
under him, as used to be the case. 

They are cleaner, also, for it is not true that the 
poor naturally love' dirt. They get used to it, be- 
cause often they have no conveniences for bathing, 
and sometimes every drop of water must be sought 
at a distant hydrant, and carried up two or three 
rickety flights of stairs before available for use. 
This makes it so precious that they learn to do 
without it. Joyce never forgot the picture of one 
little waif of two years, brought in from the streets, 
taking its first warm bath in a tub, an embodiment 
of delight, splashing, laughing, dipping, screaming, 
in a very ecstasy of happiness. Repeatedly, the at- 
tendant tried to remove her, only to yield to her 
cries and entreaties against her own judgment, until 
the little creature had to be forcibly removed and 
consoled with a new wonder — a delicious cup of 
warm, creamy milk in which sweet cracker had been 
crumbled. Accepting her change of heavens with 
tranquillity, the new Ariadne fell asleep in the warm 
enveloping blanket, worn out with sheer pleasure. 

So the Littleton children, having the bathing 
facilities of the rich, if not on so gorgeous a scale, 
were a really trim, decent lot to-day, and their merry 
voices reached Nate Tierney, going rapidly along 
the street, outside, making him waver, hesitate, 


NATE TIERNEY. 


195 


then turn in, with a smile on his honest face. He 
was a favorite with the younglings. With cries of 
“Nate! Nate!” “ Hello, Nate ! ” “Be on my side, 
Nate!” they surrounded him, and dragged him 
into their game of Indian-and-white man, a willing 
captive. 

“ Well now,” he laughed, “do you think it’s quite 
fair to turn a feller into an injun off hand, like that ? 
However, if I’ve got to be one, I’ll be an awful one, 
you bet : A red, ramping, roaring old Apache, that’ll 
think nothing o’ scalping and tomahawking every- 
thing he can ketch. Be off now, or I’ll snatch the 
whole pack of you, and make you run the gauntlet. 
One — two — three — GO.” 

They were off, shrieking with excited fun, all 
white men for the minute, with one big Indian driv- 
ing them before him. The arcade could not con- 
tain them in this wild rush for safety, and they 
streamed into and across the park, Nate at their 
backs, giving the most approved Apache war-whoop 
between his shouts of laughter. 

As he stopped in the street beyond, out of breath, 
calling merrily, between his gasps, that they weren’t 
playing fair to run so far and leave him all alone, 
he noticed his friend, Hapgood, just turning in at 
the door of his now neat cottage, further down the 
block. He stopped yelling to give the man a criti- 
cal stare. 

“ Off his base a bit-, hey ? ” he muttered. “ Step- 
ped into Lon’s as he come by, and didn’t stop at 
one glass, nuther. If Bill warn’t sech an all-round 


1 96 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

good feller I’d call him a fool ! A man ’ts got jest 
a wife might look into a glass now and then. Like 
as not she could bring him to time, if he went too 
far. When he’s .got wife and children both, he 
oughter go it easy and stop off short and quick ; but 
when he’s got children and no wife, and just a slim 
little gal like Lucy to look after things, why, he 
ought never even to look toward a green door ? I 
ain’t no teetotaller, goodness knows ! But men ’t 
ain’t got no sense oughtn’t to be fathers. Guess 
that’s why I’m an old bach,” laughing a little. 

The children, swarming back with taunting cries, 
broke in upon his meditations, and dragged him 
into one more race. He was bounding nimbly after 
them, the young pack in full cry, when he saw 
something that froze his blood, and stopped him as 
suddenly as if by a wall of rock. It was Lucy, 
wild-eyed and white-faced, dashing out of the house- 
door, while close at her heels raced her father, a 
stick of stove wood raised in air, as if to strike. 
Liquor and passion had made him an utter maniac 
for the minute. Clasped close in the poor girl’s 
arms was the little baby, its head pressed so tightly 
against her breast that it could not cry out. Lucy, 
flying for life, was evidently too spent and breath- 
less to make a sound, either. 

With a hoarse cry of horror, Nate took a great 
leap forward and flung himself, with the fury of a 
mad bull, between the girl and her natural protector, 
meeting Hapgood’s onslaught with head down and 
hands extended. The latter, blind with his insen- 


NATE TIERNEY. 


197 


sate fury, plunged ahead, unable to stop himself if 
he would. It looked as if Nate’s skull would be laid 
open with the billet of wood. 

But just as Hapgood would have felled the ob- 
struction, neither knowing nor caring what it might 
be, he stubbed his toe and went down like a log, the 
stick flying out of his hand, and hitting the ground 
harmlessly just beyond. In an instant Nate had 
grasped it, and stood over the prostrate inebriate in 
his turn. It is well said, “ Beware the fury of a 
patient man.” Slow Nate Tierney was white to his 
lips, now, beneath the bronze of years, and the knot- 
ted veins of his temples throbbed perceptibly. For 
perhaps the first time in his life he was thoroughly 
angry. 

“ Lie there, you brute ! You scum ! ” he cried in 
a deep harsh voice, unrecognizable as his own. 
“ You’ll chase your own children, will you? You’ll 
hit your little Lucy with sticks like this, will you? 
And she savin’ the poor baby in her arms. Dog ! 
I’ve a mind to brain you where you lie.” 

The scared children, looking on, wondered if this 
could indeed be Nate. The drunken man on the 
ground, winking and blinking through bleared eyes, 
tried to remember if he had ever seen that marble- 
faced avenger before. Lucy, peering fearfully 
through the front window behind locked doors, 
hardly knew which to dread the more, her passionate 
unreasoning father, or this new and strange edition 
of her good-natured old friend. 

Nobody spoke or moved for an instant, while 


198 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

Nate stood there, the man’s life in his hand, then 
slowly he lowered the uplifted weapon, caught Hap- 
good by the collar, and dragged him to his feet. 

“ I won’t soil my hands with the killing of you, 
Bill Hapgood ! ” he muttered. “The cage is the 
place for mad dogs, and there you go. Now march ! ” 

“ Now Nate, what you up to ? ” whined the other, 
pretty well sobered by all this. “ Le’ go o’ me, 
can’t you ? ’Tain’t any of your funerals, is it ? ” 

“ It may be if I kill you,” was the grim answer. 
“ March ! ” and he gave the wretched Hapgood a 
smart tap with his improvised billy that sent him on 
several paces. 

Then, to his utter discomfiture, out popped Lucy, 
red with indignation. 

“ Nate Tierney, what you doing with my father? 
Where you going to take him to ? Let him alone, 
Isay. Let him alone ! ” Her voice rang out shrilly, 
as she came forward, trembling with anger, and her 
knight-errant looked up at her in a daze of wonder- 
ment. Could this be Lucy? 

“ I’m a-goin’ to take him where he won’t have a 
chance at you again very soon, child,” he answered 
gently. “ I’m agoin’ to put him in the lock-up.” 

“ The lock-up ! ” shrieked Lucy. 

“The lock-up?” yelled the children. 

The lock-up ! ” roared the prisoner, galvanized 
into action by this supreme horror. With one 
mighty effort he wrenched himself loose and turned 
upon Nate, fighting like a tiger. 

It was a short battle. Taken by surprise Tierney 


NATE TIERNEY. 


199 


was for a minute overpowered, but as he felt his only 
weapon, the stick, slipping from his grasp he put 
forth all his strength and caught it back with a des- 
perate grip. Half fallen backward in the struggle 
he made a wild pass in the air. He heard a crashing 
noise that seemed to rend his own soul apart. Then 
the thud of a heavy body as it fell. And then, heaven 
and earth seemed to stand still for one awful minute 
as, feeling no further resistance, he raised himself 
and looked down upon his friend, William Hapgood. 
Inert and still he lay, with his skull crushed in just 
above the left temporal bone. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


IN THE CAGE. 

SOMETIMES an eternity of suffering is condensed 
into a single minute, yet that suffering is so like a 
dream, because of the paralyzed brain, that one can- 
not fully realize it until afterwards. As Nate Tier- 
ney stood over his victim, nerveless and faint, with 
eyeballs starting from their sockets, he realized the 
lowest deep of hell, yet as if it had been another 
man whose agony he looked upon. It was quite 
beyond his own enduring. Lucy’s horrified shriek 
brought him more fully to his senses, and the screams 
of the children who scattered in every direction, 
crying as they ran on, only to creep back after a mo- 
ment drawn by that prurient curiosity which is the 
one natural tie left between the buzzard and man. 

It afterward seemed to Nate as if in that one hor- 
rible, helpless minute a hundred shapes had suddenly 
encompassed him, risen out of the earth perhaps, so 
rapidly did they crowd about him, hemming him in. 
Amid the wild confusion some one thought to sum- 
mon the marshal, another Mr. Dalton, still another 
the doctor, and these three strode upon the scene in 
time to see poor Nate lifting his old friend’s head, 
to whisper hoarsely. 

200 


IN THE CAGE. 


201 


“ Oh, Bill ! I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it ! ” 
in a wail that would have melted granite. 

He looked up as Dr. Browne thrust everybody 
aside, and begged pitifully: 

“ Oh, can’t you mend it, doctor ? It’s broke in, 
but can’t you mend it? I didn’t go to do it. I 
just swung the stick. Can’t you mend it ? ” 

The doctor knew at the first glance that there 
was no mending for that mortal hurt. But it was 
hard to say so in answer to that wild white face 
quivering at his feet. 

“ Get back, Nate,” he said kindly, stooping to the 
body. “ I’ll see what can be done. Let somebody 
that’s stronger than her help to carry him, ’’.and 
his gesture, two or three onlookers stepped for- 
obeying ward. 

As they lifted the lifeless form, Nate, still stupid- 
ly kneeling beside it as if unable to move, the slow- 
dripping blood from that crushed temple fell on his 
upturned face, and trickled down into the stubble 
of his unshorn beard. Lucy, amid her frantic cries, 
saw it and fell back half fainting, into the arms of 
Babette, who hastily led her away inside her own 
rooms, assisted by Rachel, who came quickly to her 
aid. The baby, nearly dropping from her sister’s 
nerveless arms, was caught by Dan before it reached 
the ground, and the little thing clung to him, wail- 
ing feebly in its fright an,d misery. So, not know- 
ing what else to do, he followed the girls indoors, 
a part of the women pressing after. But most of 
the crowd trailed in the wake of the little procession 


202 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

which was being led by the doctor into the Hapgood 
cottage, only to be promptly shut out at the door. 

Dalton went inside with the doctor, but the 
marshal put a hand on Nate’s shoulder, and said 
under his breath, 

“ Come, Tierney.” 

Nate looked at him dully. 

“Yes, indeed, I’ll do anything for him, anything 
you say. Won’t they let me sit by him, don’t you 
think?” 

The man of law looked into the other’s face 
amazedly. Didn’t he understand yet ? he wondered. 

“You can’t do anything now,” he said. “Just 
come along wi’ me. Don’t you know what you’ve 
done, man alive ? ” 

Nate looked at him an instant and staggered 
where he stood. 

“ Go on,” he said thickly, after that one instant’s 
horrified perception. “ I’m ready,” and he spoke 
no more. 

The marshal hustled him quickly through the 
crowd and down the street, to the little building 
known as the lock-up. It was the place to which 
he had meant to consign Hapgood a bit ago. The 
crowd buzzing after like flies around a dead horse, 
surged up to the door and leaned against it, outside. 
It was a small square building, scarcely larger than 
a smoke-house, with two tiny barred windows up 
under its roof, and one thick door, clamped with 
iron, in front. It was built of stone laid in cement 
up to within three feet of the eaves, and finished 


IN THE CAGE. 


203 


out with timber. There was no way of heating it, 
and it held absolutely no movable furniture. A 
bunk projected two feet from one of the cemented 
walls, eighteen inches above the stone floor, bare 
planks, without mattress or blanket. That was 
all. A cage, indeed, as Nate had called it in his 
anger of a short time since, which had so complete- 
ly vanished now. But he little cared for its bareness 
in that misery of the soul which so far transcends 
bodily suffering. 

“I’ll bring you in a blanket and a comfortable of 
my wife’s to make up your bed, and a basin and 
pitcher of water. I don’t want to be hard on an old 
chum. I’ll fix you up real snug while you stay, and 
you just try and settle down to make the best of it. 
You can’t gather up spilled milk, Nate ; nor spilled 
blood, neither. Now I’m going, but I’ll come back 
pretty soon, and don’t worry.” 

Nate still did not answer, nor move. But as the 
door closed heavily his lips parted. 

“ Dead ! Dead ! No, no, NO ! ” and a strong 
shudder took possession of him, as uncontrollable 
as an ague fit. 

When the marshal returned, a few moments later, 
with the comforts he had promised, Nate still sat 
there, gray, haggard, and speechless. The kind- 
hearted jailer looked askance at him, and hesitated 
to ask him to rise that he might arrange the bunk. 
When he did proffer the request Nate stared at him 
a moment, as if unhearing, then slowly rose and 
looked down at the planks he had been sitting on, 


204 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

seemingly seeing them for the first time. Then he 
continued the survey, letting his eyes, already 
bloodshot with excitement and misery, scan the 
narrow place. 

“ So,” he said finally, in a low, hoarse whisper, 
smiling up into the officer’s face with an expression 
that almost started the tears even to those hardened 
orbs, “ So, you’re going to bury us both — Bill and 
me. Him in a grave and me in a tomb — Bill and 
me. I never thought ’twould be like that — Bill and 
me. Buried together — Bill and me.” He continued 
to mutter the words over and over, and when the 
keeper left the building he shook his head sadly. , 

“ Poor Nate ! It’s touchin’ him in the brain, I 
reckon. Hope he won’t lose his reasons afore the 
trial comes on, though. He’ll need ’em then if he 
ever does. Blarst his foolishness ! What did he 
mix in for, anyhow ? ” 


CHAPTER XX. 


SORROW. 

JOYCE had just returned from a half day in the 
city with Camille, whom she had been treating to 
some first-class music, and was just crossing the 
lawns to her own door, when she saw George Dalton 
come swiftly across the road from the park. She 
turned towards the walk to greet him, but her hap- 
py face fell as she saw the perturbed expression 
upon his. 

“ What is it ? ” she asked, looking down upon him 
from the ascending walk, which led somewhat 
steeply up to her veranda steps. “ There is some 
trouble ? ” 

“ Yes.” He gained her vicinity with a long stride, 
and said gently, “ It’s trouble beyond even your 
helping, this time. Lucy Hapgood’s father is 
dead.” 

“ Dead ? Why, has he been ill ? I didn’t know. 
Why wasn’t I told sooner ? ” 

“ No, not ill. He was killed — struck down in 
anger by Nate Tierney.” 

“ By Nate? Good Nate, who has been so kind ; 
who was such a friend ? I can’t believe it ! ” 

“ Nor I, hardly. Only poor Bill is dead with a 

205 


* 


206 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

broken skull, and Nate in the lock-up. The man — 
Hapgood, of course — came home drunk, and began 
abusing Lucy. Nate saw her running from him, 
and snatched the billet of wood that her father was 
chasing her with. Then they fought, and Bill was 
finished. It happened not two hours ago.” 

You will perceive that Dalton told the story as 
he had heard it, not just as it happened. But his 
version was the one generally accepted at that time. 
Joyce clasped her hands together with a passionate 
movement. 

“ Dreadful ! Dreadful ! Poor Lucy ; poor Nate ! ” 

“You don’t say poor Bill, Miss Lavillotte.” 

“ No, it is the living who are to be pitied here, 
and Nate most of all. He did it for Lucy’s sake, I 
know ; it was to save her from her father’s fury. 
There can be no doubt of that. Did you say that 
he is already in the lock-up ? Where is that ? ” 

He told her. 

“ I must go to Lucy first,” she mused. “ How 
does the poor child bear it ? ” 

“ Badly for a time, but she is more quiet now. 
The French sisters and Rachel are with her, and a 
lot of other women, who might be spared.” 

“ Miss Joyce, dinner is ready,” called Ellen from 
the veranda with a sour voice, for she resented being 
kept waiting. 

“Come in and eat with us,” said Joyce, laying a 
hand lightly on Dalton’s arm. “ It will not take us 
long, and then I can go with you. Won’t you, 
please ? ” 


SORROW. 


207 


He colored with pleasure, for her manner was 
most friendly. Just so might she speak to Mr. 
Driscoll, he thought. 

The little meal was something of a revelation to 
the man. Ellen carved, and a neat maid handed the 
plates about on a silver salver. There were flowers 
on the table, and little else, it seemed to him. Yet, 
as one course followed another, he felt it to be a 
bountiful meal, even for the healthy man’s appetite 
that he possessed. It did not please his palate any 
better than his aunt’s excellent dinners, but he felt 
there were intricacies and embellishments in some of 
these unknown dishes that her best skill had never 
compassed. He began with some nervousness, but 
Joyce’s simple, homelike manner soon dispelled 
it, and they ended over the fruit and coffee in most 
friendly converse, he telling, she hearing, many parti- 
culars of the Hapgood family, that were new to her. 

Long before he had concluded Joyce was smiling 
over a thought which had been growing upon her 
for some time. George Dalton was not so indiffer- 
ent to these people of hers as he would often try to 
t appear. Evidently he watched them, understood 
them, even, possibly, sympathized with them. 
They were not mere machines to him, as she had 
once felt they were. He did have an interest that 
was close and personal, and not wholly of a busi- 
ness character, however much he might try to con- 
ceal it under his cool manner. 

They soon reached the Hapgood door, around 
which still clustered a crowd of the neighbors, the 


208 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

men stolidly smoking, the women whispering in 
detached groups, all with that expectant air which 
attends upon a tragic incident. They made way 
respectfully for the manager, but looked somewhat 
wonderingly upon his companion, probably ques- 
tioning what could be her interest in the event. 
Dalton pushed through the press, keeping her close 
in his wake. But once within the door no conven- 
tional barriers were interposed. The gloomy dis- 
tance and silence attendant upon the last hours of 
the great were not in the way of friendly sympathy, 
or unfriendly intrusion, here. The back door stood 
wide open, and people came and went, while the 
children’s sobs mingled with the curt, outspoken 
directions of the undertaker and the clatter of dishes, 
which some obliging neighbor was washing at the 
kitchen sink. The body of the murdered man lay 
on the bed in a small room off the little sitting-room 
— an apartment so tiny that the door had to be left 
open, so that the implements of this last service to 
his body might overflow into the larger room. Lucy, 
pale and swollen-eyed, was rocking the baby before 
the little gas grate, with her back that way, the 
child with wide, wakeful eyes gazing solemnly up 
into her suffering face, trying vainly to puzzle out 
the situation. Babette, a pretty girl with a rose and 
lily face, was soothing Rufie and Tilly near by, while 
Mrs. Hemphill, with her own baby in her arms, 
kept a sharp lookout both on this little group, and 
upon the two men in the small bedroom. It seemed 
to Joyce that the place was a swarm with bustling 


SORROW. 


209 


humanity, and struck her with a sharp pang that 
the little children should see and hear so much of 
these gruesome details. Just as they entered Mrs. 
Hemphill’s high-pitched voice was making a re- 
mark — 

“ No, ’tain’t easy to dispose of young’uns that’s 
left orphans. Children’s like tooth-picks — most folks 
prefers their own,” and Joyce could imagine why 
Lucy’s expression was so tense and drawn. 

She stepped quickly to the young girl’s side and, 
stooping, tenderly kissed her cheek. Lucy looked 
up wonderingly an instant, then burst into a fresh 
flood of tears, while Joyce held the weary little head 
against her side, smoothing its pretty hair with soft 
fingers, but saying no word. Presently the bereaved 
girl sobbed out, “It’s so good of you to come!” and 
she answered softly, “ I was glad to, Lucy. I want 
you to let me help in someway.” She drew a chair 
forward and looked at the unwinking baby, but did 
not offer to take it. She felt that the sister drew 
quietness and comfort from the warmth and pres- 
sure of its little body. But in gentle tones she began 
asking questions of Babette as to the plans and 
needs for the next few days ; and, in listening to her 
suggestions and promises of assistance, Rufie and 
Tilly ceased sobbing and drew closer, while even 
Lucy soon leaned forward, talking unreservedly. 
The baby, seeing that normal conditions were ap- 
parently restored, at last began to blink, and finally 
fell away into happy dreamland. When Joyce rose 
to go a sense of comfort pervaded the group. Lucy, 

14 


210 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

fully assured that her father would be laid away 
with fitting ceremony and that she and the children 
— though what was she but a child herself, poor 
thing ! — should be decently arrayed in mourning 
apparel, began to take on a less worried expression. 
As she also rose, to lay the baby aside on an old 
lounge in the corner, where the older baby was al- 
ready asleep, Joyce beckoned to Dalton and con- 
ferred with him a minute, then drew on her wrap, to 
leave. 

As Lucy turned, the manager spoke a few words 
to her. 

“ Oh, will you, sir? ” cried the girl as he finished. 
“ My ! but that takes a load offen me. And I can 
stay in the dear little house, and keep the children, 
just like I allays did ! ” 

He nodded, and Lucy glanced with a perplexed 
look from him to Joyce. 

“ Seems like you’re both doing this, and I ought 
to thank you both,” she said. “ I was feeling pretty 
bad before you come in. I couldn't see nothing 
ahead but to put the childern in a Home and go out 
to service, and — and it ’most killed me ! ” her lips 
quivering anew. 

Joyce smiled and took her hand. 

“ Thank him,” she said, with a glance up into his 
eyes. “ But you can keep a few kind thoughts for 
me too, Lucy. I will take it upon myself to attend 
to your mourning, as I said.” 

“And you won’t forget the veil, Miss Lavillotte?” 

“ No indeed ! ” smiling down into the eager young 


SORROW. 


21 I 


face. “ But Lucy ” — she bent closer, to speak just 
above a whisper — “ I’m going to poor Nate, now. 
Have you no kind message to send to him ? ” 

“ No, no ! ” came out sharply, like a suppressed 
shriek. “ He did it ! How could I ?” 

“ But to help you, child. It is terrible, I know, 
and I will not press the matter if it is more than you 
can bear to speak of it. But, surely, you feel that 
what Nate did was not intentional ? He was shield- 
ing you, defending you. Oh, Lucy I would not ar- 
raign your father, but I can’t help pitying poor 
Nate, who has been such a friend to you ! ” 

Lucy turned abruptly and went towards the fire, 
where she stood a moment, shivering perceptibly, a 
desolate little figure. Soon she raised her head, 
flung a glance towards Mrs. Hemphill, whose watch- 
ful eyes were gloating over the scene, then with a 
beckoning look towards Joyce walked to the back 
door. Joyce instantly followed her, leaving her 
escort in low-toned talk with the undertaker. 

“ I can’t say a word before her,” whispered Lucy 
with a backward jerk of her thumb, “ she tattles so ! 
Nate used to tell me not to. But about— I — I can’t 
send no word. He killed my father? Don’t you 
see ? He killed my father .” 

There was such an intensity of trouble and de- 
spair in the whisper that it started tears in the eyes 
of Joyce. 

“ I can only repeat, my dear, it was not inten- 
tional. He was beside himself with trouble and pas- 
sion ; and it was all for you.” 


212 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 


“ Yes, but ’twas awful, awful! Pa was the red- 
mad kind, you see ; so hot and spunky you couldn’t 
do nothing but run from it. You knew it didn’t 
mean much — just a tantrum that he’d come out of 
slick enough bymeby, and then be good as pie to 
make up. But Nate’s ! ’Twas the awful white-mad 
kind. I never saw it in him before, and I could see 
it meant a whole lot. It scared all my scare about- 
pa right out of me. It — I can’t tell you how it made 
me feel ! ’Twas like seeing into the bad place, I 
guess. I knew something had got to break, and it 
did. ’Twas poor pa’s skull. How can I dare to say 
good words to Nate, when he lies like that in there ? ” 

She pointed backward with a gesture that was 
tragic in its simplicity, and Joyce could scarcely 
find words for further argument. But her keen 
sympathy was with Nate. She had that rare tender- 
ness which goes with acute perceptions, and cannot 
be complete without them. She could put herself 
in another’s place and actually feel, another’s woes. 
She felt poor Tierney’s so strongly that she sent up 
a prayer for guidance before answering, very softly, 

“ My child, Christ forgave from the very cross.” 

“ But you see I can’t forgive , because — Oh, you 
don’t know, you don’t know. I’m so awful, so 
wicked ! ” 

She pressed her clasped hands before her mouth 
as if to shut something back, while Joyce gazed at * 
her, perplexed and uncomprehending. 

“ You can’t forgive, Lucy ? Perhaps not, just yet. 
But you can pity. Let me at least tell poor Nate 


SORROW. 


213 


that you are sure he would not have done it only 
in great anger, and you’ll try to forgive him. 
Mayn’t I say that ? ” 

“ Y-yes, make it up any way you like only — 
only ” 

“ Only what, Lucy ? ” 

But the girl shook her head. 

“ I can’t tell you. You don’t understand. Just 
say anything you want to.” 

She turned and ran indoors, then popped out 
again and sprang down the steps. 

“ Miss Lav’lotte.” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Please don’t forget the black hat and veil. 
Have it very heavy, and very black, and very long, 
won’t you ? Oh pa, poor, poor pa ! ” and, breaking 
into loud wailing, Lucy disappeared within. 

The girl’s manner puzzled Joyce. It seemed to 
her that Lucy attached immense importance to so 
trivial a thing as a mourning veil, yet she could not 
feel that this was all girlish frivolity and shallowness. 
Something in - the child’s whole manner disputed 
such a suggestion. Neither was her attitude to- 
wards Nate quite clear. She said she could not 
forgive, yet instinctively Joyce felt that neither did 
she entirely condemn. Could it be that deep with- 
in her she not only forgave, but condoned, and that 
her almost feverish desire to appear in the trap- 
pings of extreme woe was induced by the con- 
sciousness that she was not so filled with resent- 
ment and horrified grief as she ought to be ? 


214 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 


She was still revolving these queries when Dalton 
joined her and led her around to the front, debouch- 
ing so as to avoid the few scattered groups still out- 
side. He did not offer his arm, but kept close at 
her side, ready to aid instantly should she make a 
misstep amid the unfamiliar surroundings. Once he 
steadied her as she slipped from the single plank 
that made the walk around the cottage, but in- 
stantly withdrew his sustaining hand. Not until 
they were walking along the street, with its electric 
lights at each intersection, did either speak. Then 
Joyce asked suddenly, 

“ Will Lucy ever consent to see Nate again ? Can 
the old-time friendship help, in any degree, to soft- 
en her towards him ? ” George looked down upon 
the sweet face beside him, so filled with sympathy 
and concern, and checked some impulse to answer 
hastily. After a little he said in a deliberate voice, 
as if weighing each word, 

“ Dear Miss Lavillotte, when death comes into a 
life like yours it means grief, pure and simple. 
Other thoughts and interests are put aside. There 
is no compulsion, no haste. They can wait. But 
it is not so with the people we have been to see. 
There is so much besides the simple sense of loss 
and bereavement. A thousand anxieties crowd so 
closely the holier sorrow is half shut out. Some- 
times, much as we shrink from acknowledging it, 
the gain is more than the loss. Perhaps it leaves 
fewer mouths to feed. Perhaps it takes away a com 
tinual menace and terror. You can’t conceive of 


SORROW. 


215 

feeling that a father means only a — tormentor. 
But — think of it.” 

He felt Joyce shiver beside him, and stopped 
abruptly, shaken by a sudden consciousness that had 
never before occurred to him. Could it be that 
out of her own experience she did comprehend ? 
She looked up piteously and her face was white in 
the dusk. 

‘‘Yes, I could,” she murmured in a husky whis- 
per. “ I know, I understand.” 

He dared not speak he was so filled with emotion. 
It had rushed over him in a flood. To think she 
had suffered so — she ! In a minute her plaintive 
voice broke upon him once more. 

n It’s like this. Lucy can’t be so sorry as she 
ought to be, and it is dreadful to her. It is like 
those fearful dreams when we long to get some- 
where and cannot take a step, or ache to cry out 
and cannot make a sound. She aches to feel sorrier ; 
she is ashamed that she cannot. But grief sits back 
and laughs at hers, and will not be coaxed into her 
company. It nearly kills her that it is so, for she is 
a good, conscientious girl who wants to do and to be 
right — oh, poor little Lucy !” 

He took her shaking hand and drew it gently 
within his arm. She was weeping behind her veil, 
and he felt the passion in her outburst. He was 
not stupid ; he had known James Early. He could 
feel to his soul what was passing in hers, and the 
revelation wrung him as no sorrow had ever wrung 
him before. If he but dared to comfort her, to as- 


21 6 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

sure her that here was a friend who would stand be- 
tween her and every wrong in future ! After a little 
he dared trust himself to answer. 

“ Miss Lavillotte, I think life is always harder 
than it looks from the outside — yet easier, too. At 
the worst something comes to help out. And, 
ijust because it is so hard, it can be no sin to be glad 
and happy when Heaven gives us the chance. 
No decent person will kick a man when he is down ; 
neither does fate. When you talk to Lucy again 
just tell her to enjoy all she can, and honor her 
poor father by believing that, wherever he may be 
now, he will be glad to know she is trying to be 
happy.” 

If the words held double solace no one could 
guess it by Dalton’s manner. It was decidedly 
matter-of-fact above its tenderness. Joyce did not 
answer, except by a long sighing breath, but there 
was relief in its sound. Her hand still rested in the 
arm of her manager, and a feeling of safety and 
contentment gradually stole into her heart, often 
sore for her own loneliness, as well as over the 
woes of others. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


IN THE LOCK-UP. 

The marshal unlocked the door of Nate’s nar- 
row cell and held his lantern aloft with a cheery, 
“ Hello ! Tierney. Brought you company, you see,” 
and the prisoner rose slowly from his bunk, blinking 
and staring in the light, with an expectant air. It 
died out quickly, and murmuring in a broken voice, 

“ Oh, I thought it might be — evening, Mr. Dal- 
ton ; evening, Miss,” he looked helplessly around 
for a chair to offer Joyce. 

The sheriff had brought one, which he placed for 
her, and Dalton braced himself against the wall, his 
hands in his pockets, while the officer sat down 
sociably beside his prisoner, on the bunk. 

“ Nate,” said George, without preamble, “ we 
don’t want to pry into your affairs, nor trouble you 
in any way, but if we can help you we will be glad 
to — Miss Lavillotte and I. We believe you are man 
enough to wish to know the worst, without mincing, 
whatever it may be, and have come to tell you 
all. Your old chum, William Hapgood, is dead. 
The blow you gave him in your anger was harder 
than you meant. It crushed in his temple. He 
never knew what killed him.” Nate looked up. 
quickly. 


217 


218 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ I didn’t give him no blow, sir — not intentional, 
that is — I just swung the fire-stick in spite of me, 
and his head run agin it. I had been mad, but I’d 
got it under me. I’d dropped the stick to my side, 
and was goin’ to lead him away, when Lucy’s screech 
made me ’most crazy for a minute, and I didn’t 
know rightly what I was doing. But ’twan’t mur- 
der was in my heart. I’ll swear to that ! All I 
thought was to keep him off and see what ailded 
Lucy. It seemed so dumb queer to have her go 
fur me ’cause I was a-goin’ to shet up her pa where 
he could cool off a bit ! Women’s queer cattle, 
though,” he ruminated slowly, moving his head up 
and down. 

Dalton shrugged his shoulders, then looked at 
Joyce and said gently, 

“ You mean we don’t always understand them.” 

“ Well, that’s it, I s’pose. ’Twas going too fur, I 
presume, for me to say I’d take him to the lock-up. 
You see, that was a disgrace, and no mistake. It 
hurted her feelings an’ then she turned agin me.” 

“ But she let me bring a message,” interposed 
Joyce quickly, though her manner was not assured. 
“ I am certain she is sorry for you, and that she 
means to try and forgive you.” Nate turned and 
looked at her several seconds, as if collecting his 
wits. 

“ It’s sorter hard to understand,” he said at last, 
in a hopeless tone. “ I did it all for her — all but the 
part that I didn’t do at all, for that was an accident 
and nothin’ else — and she says she’ll try to forgive me ! 


IN THE LOCK-UP. 


219 


I’ve heered of ’em pardoning men out o’ state’s prison 
after fifteen or twenty years, maybe, ’cause they 
found they’d never done the thing they was put in 
fur. Pardoning ’em out, mind you ! I never could 
understand that. Seems as if it ought to be t’other 
way, but they go on doin’ it just the same, so I 
s’pose I’m off on that, too. The fact is, things is 
pretty complexited sometimes. I can’t get the right 
end, nohow.” 

“ Nate,” said Dalton, “ do you claim you didn’t 
mean to hit Hapgood — not at all ? ” 

“ Of course I didn’t mean to. Hadn’t I had him 
down, with the stick in my hand, right over him, 
and didn’t I drop it, and take him by the collar, as 
easy as an old shoe, and tell him to come along?” 

“ But how, then ” began Dalton. 

“ Wait, sir, and I’ll tell you straight.” 

Nate had risen and stood opposite the manager, 
his eyes glowing out from the yellow glare of the 
lantern, which was set on the floor in their midst. 
Joyce watched him from her chair, and the officer, 
also risen, leaned against the bunk, his gaze never 
leaving the speaker. 

“ ’Twas this way. When Lucy called out so 
sharp, and come running out, I said ’twas to the lock- 
up I was going to take him. At that everybody 
screeched, and Bill turned on me like a mad bear. 
He’s a gritty fighter ” — He paused and looked around 

in his slow way “ I s’pose I oughter say was, now. 

Bill was a gritty fighter allays and he nearly knocked 
the breath outen me with his first blow. I felt the 


220 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

stick slidin’ away from me, and knew ’twas my only 
holt. If Bill got the best o’ me I was done fur. 
He was a mighty good fighter, and quicker’n a cat. 
I gripped at the stick and lost my balance, so’t I 
nearly felkover back’ard. My arms flew out, spite 
of me, and the big stick struck wild. It killed poor 
Bill. But can’t you see I didn’t do it, Mr. Dal- 
ton ? Before God, I ain’t guilty of the murder of 
Lucy’s father ! I was mad, but not like that.” Dal- 
ton stepped forward and put out his hand. 

“ I believe you, Nate. I’m glad you told me! ” 

They shook hands warmly, and Joyce thrilled in 
sympathy. 

The two talked a while longer, then all said good- 
night, but not before Nate had been promised the 
best counsel money could procure. As Joyce shook 
hands with him, Nate held her soft fingers an instant, 
and looked searchingiy into her face, upon which 
the smoking lantern shed a fitful light. 

“ It’s good of you to take so much trouble for 
me,” he said. “ Did you come, ’cause Lucy asked 
you to ? ” 

“ Not exactly. I meant to come, anyhow, but 
was glad to bring you word from her.” 

She felt she could not bluntly tell him that Lucy 
had avoided speaking of him, especially when she 
was not at all certain as to the girl’s real feeling in 
the matter. But, alive to all the suppressed wistful- 
ness in the man’s look and tone, she yearned to 
comfort him, so said impulsively, 

“ Mr. Tierney, you must remember Lucy is 


IN THE LOCK-UP. 


221 


terribly upset, now. Her father lies there, dead by 
a cruel blow, and she does not know that it was 
purely accidental. He may not have been kind, 
but with all his faults he was her father. You 
wouldn’t think so much of Lucy if she forgot that. 
You’d want her to think first of him, and the poor 
little orphaned children.” 

" It’s right you are, Miss !” grasping ‘her hand 
heartily once more. “ She’s a good girl, is Lucy, 
and does her duty, allays. I’m glad she don’t for- 
get it now. But it ’most drives me mad to be shut 
up here where I can’t help her out any. She’ll be 
needing everything these days.” 

“ She shall want for nothing, Nate. Mr. Dalton 
will tell you the Works are to pay Mr. Hapgood’s 
funeral expenses, and continue his wages for the 
present. And we women, who are neighbors, will 
look after the dear girl in other ways. Don’t worry 
about Lucy a minute ! Just keep your mind clear 
to tell your story exactly as it is, and your acquittal 
is certain.” 

He looked down into her fair, upturned face and 
thought that even in the smudgy lantern’s glow it 
looked like the face of some ministering angel. 
His own rugged visage worked with emotion. He 
could have kneeled to her, kissed her hand, touched 
the hem of her gown. But he only gave back her 
hand in a gentle manner, and said. 

“ Thank you, ma’am ! I’ll trust ’em all with 
you.” 


CHAPTER XXII. 


A VISIT TO LOZCOSKI. 

JOYCE was called into the city by the Lozcoski 
affair the very next day. She was accompanied by 
George Dalton, also by a tablet filled with memo- 
randa. There were things to buy for the Bonnivels, 
the Hapgoods, and for her own household. There 
was counsel to secure for Nate, some business to 
transact with Mr. Barrington, and, lastly, the Loz- 
coski matter. She could not expect anything but 
a busy, tiresome day. The gaunt, haggard face of 
the Pole haunted her by times, and in the train she 
suddenly remarked to her manager, 

“ I can’t feel right over that Lozcoski ! Every 
time I think of him I have a feeling that, somehow, 
he hasn’t had fair play. There was an awful anger 
and despair in his look when he saw Murfree, and 
an awful terror met it. There has been wrong 
somewhere between those two men. You are sure 
the Pole had a fair trial?” 

“ Why, I suppose so. Of course he couldn’t make 
himself understood very well without an interpreter, 
and they had difficulty in finding one — indeed had 
to give it up, I think — but there seemed no doubt 
of the matter.” 


A VISIT TO LOZCOSKI. 


223 


“But why couldn’t they find an interpreter?” 

“ Well, as I understand it, the man comes from 
some remote part of the country, and speaks a vil- 
lainous patois that even an educated person of his 
own land can scarcely make out. He is very igno- 
rant, and slow to pick up our tongue.” 

“ Was Murfree his only accuser ? ” 

“ Virtually. Still, his written deposition was so 
clear one could not gainsay it, I have heard.” 

“ Written ? Why did he not appear in court ? ” 

“ He was ill at the time, I believe. The fact is, 
it all happened once when I was east on business, 
and I really know but little about it, except from 
hearsay.” 

“ Possibly this accounts for Lozcoski’s anger 
against the man. Ignorant as he is, he has no 
sense of justice, perhaps. But he has suffered 
cruelly, and I can’t help feeling that there is some- 
thing he resents with all his soul.” 

“ How imaginative you are ! Don’t you think 
all wrong-doers resent their punishment ? ” 

“ No, I do not. Many times in my life I have 
felt that I was not getting the full measure of my 
dues in that way. In fact, the hardest things in my 
experience have not come to me in the guise of 
reproof. I could not connect them with any of my 
ill doings. They just came out of a clear sky, as it 
were. Often, when I have been naughtiest, I have 
seemed to escape with less of pain and trouble 
than when I have been trying to be exceptionally 
good.” 


224 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ Perhaps you were not logical enough to trace 
out cause and effect.” 

“ Possibly not.” She looked at him reflectively a 
moment. “ I am very illogical, I fear. I once told 
myself that anything I might want to do to help 
Littleton would be over your dead body, almost. 
And, now, I never make a move without looking to 
you for the encouragement and support that make 
it perfectly satisfactory. I ought to have read you 
better from the first !” 

Dalton rigidly suppressed the tremor of emotiou 
that shook him from head to foot, and after, an 
instant’s pause answered in a cool tone, 

“ A man generally makes his employer’s interests 
his own, doesn’t he ? ” 

She laughed sweetly. 

“Am I your employer? It seems funny, doesn’t 
it ? But you need not try to explain it all away 
through your loyalty to my interests. I won’t 
believe that. You are just as much interested 
in these people as I am. You know every man, 
woman, and child by name and nature — now ’fess ! 
Don’t you ? ” 

“ I’d be a chump if I did not make that a part 
of my business, at least to some extent. Of course 
I know some better than others.” 

They fell into silence after that. George had no 
desire to talk. It was enough to sit close beside a 
presence which meant the personification of purity 
and sweetness to him. Silence is never intrusive. 
She can sit between lovers, even, and shed a bene- 


A VISIT TO LOZCOSKI. 


225 


diction upon both. It is only nervousness and fear 
that will drive her away. Joyce spoke first, in a 
tone almost of relief, 

“ Here we are ! Now, shall we go first to Mr. 
Barrington ? 

“ When I have all these weightier matters off my 
mind I can better enjoy my feminine errands, I 
imagine.” 

“ Certainly. And I hope we’ll find him in.” 

He reached down her umbrella and followed her 
from the coach. The brakeman winked at the por- 
ter, and jerked a thumb towards them, as they 
walked leisurely down the platform. 

“ Best looking bride I’ve seen this season ! ” he 
remarked emphatically. “ And the groom’s got no 
eyes for any one else. Gee ! Don’t her clothes fit, 
though ? ” 

“ It’s her figger fits,” laughed the fat porter, with 
an unctuous chuckle. “ Coffee sacks ’uld look well 
on her.” 

Mr. Barrington soon put them on the right path 
for their legal quest, and before noon they were 
following a turnkey along a dim stone corridor, which 
led to the hospital cell where Lozcoski was confined. 
A third party trailed respectfully in their rear. He 
was an interpreter whom Joyce had insisted upon 
securing, at a rather startling sum — for he was re- 
ported versed in every patois of Poland — that they 
might have an opportunity to converse freely with 
his countryman, before the latter was called upon 
to testify in the matter. 
i5 


226 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

As the cell door opened before them a wild 
figure started up from the bunk, and stared through 
the gloom with great eyes. Joyce drew back, half 
startled, and Dalton spoke quickly, in a tone of 
authority. 

“ Bring this lady something to sit on outside 
here. She can’t go in there.” 

A chair was brought, and he stood close beside 
her, repeating her low-toned requests aloud to the 
interpreter. 

“ Speak to him and tell him he has nothing to 
fear, that he is simply to tell an honest story of why 
he tried to fire the Works, and that all justice shall 
be granted him.” 

At first Lozcoski did not seem to listen. 
Crouched in an attitude of hopeless submission, he 
would not even raise his eyes as the interpreter’s 
voice skipped over the hard consonants of his native 
tongue. 

But presently his head was thrown back and he 
spoke in a quick, passionate tone. He was answered 
in a soothing voice, then took up the word himself, 
and getting well started, went on faster and faster, 
gradually straightening himself, and beginning to 
gesticulate with his hands. Once he raised the 
right hand and spoke low and impressively, while 
both he and the interpreter bowed their heads. 
With every sentence the latter’s manner became 
more interested, and his short interrogations more 
eager. At last, as the narrative flowed on, he did 
not attempt to interrupt for some time, then he 


A VISIT TO LOZCOSKI. 


227 


raised a hand, spoke a sentence in an authoritative 
manner, and turned to Dalton, seeming to think he 
was the person to whom he should defer. 

“ He tells a strange story, sir,” said he in English, 
“ and he has sworn to its truth by the most terrible 
oath in our religion. Shall I tell it to you now?” 

“Yes, but speak low,” said Dalton, looking to- 
wards Joyce, who nodded. 

“It seems he, and the man who witnessed against 
him, both belong to the same secret society — a 
Nihilistic affair, I take it, — and are sworn to eternal 
brotherhood, of course. Once, this man he men- 
tions was in danger of the law, and our prisoner 
here risked his life to save him. He does not ex- 
plain all the details, but he was obliged to fly from 
Poland, and came to this country. Arrived here he 
tried various ways of making a living, and finally 
shipped as a sailor on a ship of war. He served for 
two months on the war-ship “Terror” — Joyce at 
this word looked up in startled fashion and turned 
pale — “ but becoming disabled by a fall from the rig- 
ging, was left in hospital before its next cruise on 
the Florida coast. When he recovered sufficiently 
to be discharged he was told that a branch of his 
Nihilistic society was in this city, and would look 
after him, if he could get here. He managed to 
beat his way through, and was helped to work of 
various kinds for a month, or so. At length, one 
night at a meeting of the society, he encountered 
his old friend, and greeted him warmly. The man 
treated him well enough then, and they renewed 


228 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

their old intimacy, the other promising to find him 
a steady job at some big factory near by. His prom- 
ises did not materialize, and our prisoner here ap- 
pealed to him again and again, for he was destitute. 
Finally, at one of the monthly meetings, the old 
chum sought him out, and with a somewhat excited 
air said he was ready now to do him a service, if he 
would come along home with him that night. Our 
prisoner, who had been so exceptionally slow in ac- 
quiring the English language that he found it diffi- 
cult to secure work anywhere, listened to his pro- 
mises with much gratitude, and went along. The 
man took him to a small village surrounding some 
big works, and kept Lozcoski shut in his room 
through the whole of the next day, explaining that 
scab workmen were around and they must move 
carefully. That night the man roused him from 
sleep and told him to come along, for there was 
work for him at last. It was to be night work, but 
that was the best he could do for him. Suspecting 
no harm, he gladly went along and, directed by the 
other, was set to piling certain light trash against 
different parts of the building. The place was un- 
lighted except by the glow of the furnaces inside, 
and he did not clearly know what he was doing. 
The other directed every movement, then left him 
standing in the deep shadow of an angle in the build- 
ing, saying he would return in a moment. He was 
going after the boss. Lozcoski waited a long time. 
After a while there were loud shouts, and he could 
see that there was a glare all about him, as if of fire. 


A VISIT TO LOZCOSKI. 


229 


He stepped out to see what had happened, and saw 
men running. Suddenly his chum sprang around 
the angle and caught him by the shoulder, pressing 
him forward. The men, at his call, turned and saw 
him. They were surrounded, and the chum talked 
loudly, and seemed denouncing our friend here. At 
any rate, they seized him and took him off to jail. 
He vainly tried to make some one comprehend the 
right and wrong of it, but could not make himself 
understood. Even the interpreter provided could 
not thoroughly understand him, and took his ex- 
cited denunciations against the traitor as the rav- 
ings of one half insane with trouble. He does not 
rightly know, even yet, what he is imprisoned for, 
but his whole soul is bitter against that man, and he 
means to kill him yet, if it is the last thing he does 
on earth ! ” 

“ George and Joyce looked at each other. 

“You divined it,” he murmured. 

“Yes, to a certain extent. This Lozcoski must 
have justice, and so — so must Murfree.” 

“Yet you will hate to punish him, I can see!” 
His eyes, looking down into hers, were soft and shin- 
ing, and held that little twinkle of tender ridicule 
which he seemed to reserve for her. She no longer 
resented it, however. She knew the loyalty that 
tempered it. She said in the same low tone, 

“ I want a question asked.” 

“ The queen has but to command.” 

“ Thanks, sir courtier. Ask who commanded that 
war-ship they spoke of.” 


2 3 o JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

Dalton turned to the interpreter, who put the 
question. 

Lozcoski shook his head in replying, and the 
other explained, “ He has forgotten.” 

“Then let him tell about the night he came to the 
Social-house,” suggested the “ queen,” and the nar- 
rative was resumed. 

It was not long. Lozcoski, while in prison, 
brooded over the wrong done him, day and night. 
When the fire gave him opportunity, he managed to 
escape with two other convicts, and leaving them 
at the first chance, he made his way to Littleton, 
resolving never to leave there until he had punished 
his man. He had chanced upon Dan’s retreat, evi- 
dently, and had lived as he could for days, but on 
extremely short rations, as the fields were all har- 
vested and berry time over. At night he would 
walk into town and wait around, hoping to see his 
victim. But the old man was wary and nearly al- 
ways traveled in company. If Lozcoski had pos- 
sessed a revolver he could have made short work of 
him, but having no means to procure any he had to 
wait for a personal encounter. The night he came 
to the Social-house he had been three days without 
food, and was insane with hunger. He had but two 
ideas in his disordered brain — to eat, and to kill. 
He must do the first in order to gain strength for 
the second. Even the actual sight of his enemy, 
before the door of the refreshment room, could not 
detain him from the food that he had caught sight 
of through the door. His hunger partly appeased, 


A VISIT TO LOZCOSKI. 


231 


he had started out boldly to find Murfree, who fled 
for home on seeing him. Finding no one there, 
however, and afraid to be alone, he had rushed back 
again, feeling safety in numbers. He was just in 
time to meet his avenger in the hall, and in spite of 
the onlookers, the Pole’s terrible onslaught had 
nearly finished him. 

Dalton put several searching questions, then as- 
suring the prisoner, through the interpreter, that 
matters should be righted, and his surroundings made 
comfortable at once, they left him with a new look 
on his worn face. 

After leaving the interpreter, well satisfied with 
his morning’s work, they were standing at a corner 
waiting for a trolley, when Joyce said in a weary 
voice, 

“ Is that all we have to do together ? ” 

Dalton glanced down at her, and his lips twitched 
a little at the corners. 

“ For the present, I fear. Luncheon comes next, 
doesn’t it ? I had hoped — but I heard you accept 
Mr. Barrington’s invitation to his house.” 

“Yes,” absently. “Then I won’t see you 
again ? ” 

“ What train did you think of taking for home ? ” 

“ 1 want to take the 5.13, if I can make it, but may 
have to wait for the 6.05. Which do you take? ” 

“ I’ll be there for the 5.13. ” 

“All right ! ” cheerfully. “ I’ll try and be there. 
It’s so much pleasanter to have company. Is this 
my car ? ” 


232 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

He helped her on, and stepped back to await his 
own, going to another part of the city. 

“ Poor little thing ! ” he thought. “ How the 
contact with crime sickens her. I can always see 
it. Yet she will not swerve from her good work, 
though she might sit lapped in luxury. They say 
those soldiers who sicken and tremble, when going 
into the fight often make the bravest heroes. She 
is the pluckiest little fighter I ever saw, but it *is 
herself she conquers — and me ! ” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


WAITING FOR THE TRAIN. 

It was a hard day for Joyce. Luncheon was late 
at Mr. Barrington’s, and the purchases she must 
make took her far and near. It seemed impossible 
to get through for the 5.13 train ; but she was some- 
what astonished to find herself rushing from coun- 
ter to counter, and eagerly consulting her little 
watch for fear she should miss it. 

“ But what if I do ? ” she asked herself. “ I 
told them not to hurry dinner, and I can be at 
home soon after seven by the next train. What’s 
the use in making myself ill by scrambling about 
like this?” 

Yet, despite all arguing, as the moments fled her 
eagerness increased, and though she would not say, 
even to her own soul, “ It is because George Dalton 
is taking that train,” still something did say it with- 
in her, in utter disregard of her own proud disclaim- 
ing of any such motive. She even neglected one 
or two quite important purchases of her own, so 
that she might board a car for the distant depot 
with a minute or two of leeway, as she calculated. 

But we have all heard about those plans that “ go 
agley.” 


233 


234 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

To her impatience the delays seemed endless, 
and she fairly anathematized herself, because she 
had not run a block or two to a cab-stand, and bid- 
den one race the distance for double fare. Great 
trucks seemed determined to appropriate the rails 
and ignore all signals. At one place a jam of traf- 
fic stopped them entirely for a space. At a certain 
railway crossing they had to wait before the gates, 
Joyce in an ill-concealed agony of impatience, while 
a long freight train steamed slowly by. She felt 
half tempted to spring out and walk, then calmed 
herself with a contemptuous, 

“ How silly ! I can take the next train. It will 
be tedious waiting, and no wonder I dread it, but I 
can buy something at the news-stand to read.” 

She scarcely waited for her car to stop when op- 
posite the long, massive stone building, and, rush- 
ing through the great, ever-swinging doors, she 
traversed the office corridors with rapid tread, her 
hands too full of packages to consult her watch. 
But twisting her head to see the round clock, just 
above the entrance, with its great brass weights 
ponderously doling off the time, in plain view, she 
started with dismay, for its hands remorselessly 
pointed to fourteen minutes past five. One minute 
late. It was too provoking ! She felt the tears 
close, and dashed on down the long steps leading 
to the passenger gates, at the risk of falling full 
length. She hoped against hope that some unpre- 
cedented event might have delayed the train. But 
as she sped along beside the cruel steel netting that 


WAITING FOR THE TRAIN. 


235 


shut her from the railway tracks, she realized that 
she was baffled. The one she was interested in was 
already pulling out from the end of the long depot. 
She could see it through the lace-work of steel, and 
knew every hope was gone. She must calm herself 
and wait. But she could not refrain from watching 
it a moment, with hungry eyes, pressed like a child’s 
against the barrier. It was carrying George home, 
and she was left behind! She felt like a deserted 
waif, and looked it. Somebody, watching the little 
pantomime from behind a baggage truck not far 
away, read in the gaze almost more than he dared 
to believe. 

“ Her disappointment is not on your account, 
you booby!” he told himself frankly. “ Don’t be 
an idiot.” 

Joyce turned sadly, wearily, towards the waiting- 
room. 

Her drooping figure, so unlike her usual erect 
and joyous bearing, proclaimed her dejection, as 
well as fatigue. 

She felt utterly spent. 

She had not reached the room when a hand 
lightly touched her shoulder. She turned quickly 
to meet George Dalton’s smiling gaze, and her own 
face amply reflected his gladness. As he saw it a 
new expression leaped to his eyes. They were bril- 
liant — were they triumphant, too ? But he con- 
trolled himself to speak in an even, sensible tone. 

“ Let me take your packages. You are loaded 
down.” 


236 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“Oh, it is you?” cried Joyce, catching her 
breath. “You didn’t take the train then? Were 
you late, too ? ” 

“ I couldn’t seem to get away, somehow,” he 
answered with nonchalance, heaping the packages 
up methodically on one arm, and avoiding her 
glance. “ But we’ve plenty of time for the next,” 
laughing mischievously. “ Can you stand it to wait 
an hour ? ” 

“ I’ll have to, won’t I ? ” But she did not look 
oppressed by the anticipation, he could see. 

“ We’ll try and mitigate its horrors,” he remarked 
as they slowly mounted the stairs. “ I’ll secure the 
best rocker the room affords, and all the periodicals 
on the stand, if you say so.” 

“ Oh, must I read ? ” she cried naively. “ I 
thought we might talk, perhaps.” 

He looked away suddenly. He dare not meet 
her softened gaze just then. 

“ We will do whatever you wish,” he said in a 
steady tone, after a minute. “ Now, let’s see.” 

They had reached the room, and he took a calm 
survey of it, in all .its details. Then he marched up 
to a small urchin who, with much effort, was rock- 
ing a large chair to and fro, his chubby legs just 
reaching to the edge of its broad seat. 

“ I’m afraid you are working too hard, my son,” 
he remarked blandly. “Just take these pennies, 
and drop them in the slot of that machine over in 
the farthest corner — see? There’s no knowing 
what will drop out in return.” 


WAITING FOR THE TRAIN. 237 

“ I know ! ” cried the youth all agrin. “ It’s 
butter-scotch, or gum. Tve seed that kind before.” 

He toddled briskly off with the handful of 
pennies and Dalton drew the vacated chair into a 
quiet nook, where the light fell softly and the 
crowd did not gather. 

“Follow! Follow!” he called in a low tone 
over his shoulder, and, smiling happily, Joyce 
obeyed. 

He seated her, heaped her many parcels on a 
convenient marble slab near by, then stood and 
looked at her a moment. 

“ I think you’ll do,” he observed in a whimsical 
tone, “ but there’s one thing more.” 

“ Yes, a chair for you,” she returned eagerly. 

His bronzed cheek took on a perceptible tinge of 
red. 

“ Thank you ! I would not mind sitting on the 
floor, I think — just there,” and his tan toe lightly 
touched a spot just beyond the edge of her gown. 
“ But, for custom’s sake, I’ll find a chair. We are 
not Turks, you see.” 

He strode away quite out of sight, but after 
some time returned, dragging an arm chair over the 
tiling. In his other hand he gingerly held a quaint 
little Indian basket, gaily stained, and inwoven 
with sweet-scented grass. It was heaped with great 
yellow peaches, each with a crimson cheek, while, 
flung carelessly among them, were clusters of grapes 
in their perfection, purple-blue and whitish-green, 
promising rare sweetness and flavor. 


238 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 


“ They were the best I could find, but scarcely 
good enough for you,” he remarked deprecatingly, 
as he placed the basket in her hand. 

“Oh, beautiful! What delicious fruit! And 
where did you ever find such a pretty, fragrant 
basket ? ” 

“ Have you never noticed the old squaw, who 
sits mutely amid her wares near the traffic gate? 
She declared this her choicest creation, her master- 
piece, indeed. I am so glad you admire it ! ” 

“ The whole thing is lovely. It makes me hun- 
gry to look at this fruit, and yet it seems too pretty, 
just as it is, to spoil by dipping into it.” 

He laughed and, selecting the largest peach of 
all, began to pare it with his own pocket-knife, 
making a plate and napkin of his newspaper. With 
careful slowness he pared and stoned and quartered 
it, then handed her the segments on a bit of the 
paper torn from a clean spot. 

“ Such immense pains ! ” she laughed, as she 
received the offering. 

“ It is very little I can do for you,” he murmured 
in return, and looked off through the window, 
though nothing but an expanse of unlighted brick 
wall could be found beyond. 

Joyce did not answer. She ate her fruit slowly, 
as if luxuriating in its taste. Presently she looked 
up. 

“ And won’t you eat any of my peaches ? ” she 
asked archly, with a lingering emphasis on the 
“ my.” 



“SUCH IMMENSE PAINS!” SHE LAUGHED, AS SHE RECEIVED 
THE OFFERING. Page 238. 

























































































WAITING FOR THE TRAIN. 239 

“ Indeed I will ! ” reaching with eager haste for 
the one she offered. 

She had selected the finest one left and, as his 
fingers touched it, she clung to it an instant. 

“ So you will take a peach from me ? ” she said, 
with an odd expression ; “ Especially after being 
the one to secure it to me.” 

“ Oh yes, with pleasure.” 

“ I’m glad your pride has limits,” laughing and 
flushing a little. “ Some people are proud over 
everything.” 

“ I am proud over seeing you enjoy my little gift.” 

“ And I am proud over being the recipient of 
your gift, which strikes me as not being so ‘little’ 
as you seem to think it. After all, this matter of 
giving and taking should be very simple ; don’t 
you see? The surcharged cloud pours its electri- 
city into the empty one, and both are equalized. 
But has the full cloud any more to boast of than 
the other ? ” 

He smiled. 

“ I think I never saw any one so ingenious in 
pleas for the sharing system. Possibly, if you were 
the empty cloud you would feel differently.” 

“ I hope not. I think it takes a larger nature to 
receive nobly than to give nobly.” 

“ So do I. It takes a nature so great few men 
have attained to it,” he' said quickly. “ I acknowl- 
edge that I have not.” 

“ ‘ A fault confessed is half redressed ’ ,” murmured 
Joyce. 


240 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ Is pride a fault ? ” he asked quickly. 

“ Isn’t it ? According to the Bible it’s a large one, 
almost a crime.” Her laughing eyes sought his, 
and she continued, “Now, I haven’t a particle of 
pride. I’ve eaten one peach and I want another. 
Moreover, I want it pared and quartered.” 

They were almost as isolated in their little corner 
as if in a nook of the woods. The crowds surged to 
and fro, and its units were “ but as trees walking 
to their oblivious eyes. Joyce was discovering new 
depths in George Dalton’s nature. He was a thinker, 
and as his thinking had grown out of contact with 
men, rather than from grubbing in books, it was 
often of a unique and picturesque kind. 

He saw the ludicrous in everything, and, with all 
his practicality, there was a strain of romance so 
fresh and young mingled with it, that it made a boy 
of him whenever he was dominated by it. He was 
the boy to-night, and as he leaned towards Joyce, 
talking in an undertone, his eye bright, his laughter 
frequent, his manner full of respectful friendliness, 
she forgot that he had ever seemed hard, cold, and 
given oyer to business alone. 

At length the call of a train at some distant 
doorway startled Joyce, and she glanced around* 

“ Isn’t that our train he’s calling? It can’t be ! 
But I’m afraid it is.” 

Each consulted a watch, and looked guiltily at 
the other. 

“ It has been very short,” said Joyce involuntarily. 

“ And very sweet ! ” added George below his 


WAITING FOR THE TRAIN. 


241 


breath. “ Well, come on, little parcels. One-two- 
three-four — have I got them all? Why — what is 
it?” 

The girl’s face had a piteous look as it was turned 
to his. 

“ I had forgotten it all — the Hapgoods, Lozcoski, 
poor Nate! We were as easy as if there were no 
trouble anywhere. It all rushed over me once more, 
and I felt, for the instant, that I could never bear it 
again. But you will help me? You’ll understand 
now, and not think me foolish and crazy, as you 
sometimes do ? ” 

“ Do I ? I did not know it. I’ll stand by you in 
everything, never fear ! Come, child, or we’ll miss 
this train, too.” 

She preceded him without a word,- and he was 
glad to keep quite behind for a little, for when he 
remembered how he had called her “ child” his face 
was hot with embarrassment. He had never forgot- 
ten before. Had she noticed ? Her face told him 
nothing. 

As they hurried out through the gates and down 
the platform to their waiting train, the passengers 
were descending from another, just arrived. Has- 
tily crossing this tide transversely two men, arm in 
arm, passed them close in the busy throng. 

There was a familiar look about one of them, 
Joyce thought, as she had just a side glimpse while 
hurrying by. But, absorbed in her own haste, she 
did not notice particularly. George stopped short 
and turned for an instant, then kept on just behind 
16 


242 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

her. He had recognized Nate, and knew him to be 
in charge of an officer, doubtless being conveyed to 
the county jail. He had not expected this event 
till morning, and had meant, himself, to prepare the 
poor fellow for it. Saddened and angry that the 
man had been so summarily dealt with, Dalton’s 
face took on its sternest look, which Joyce caught as 
they seated themselves. 

Not knowing its cause, she was startled and cha- 
grined at the change. What had she said, or done, 
to cause it ? 

Silently ruminating amid the sweet experiences of 
the day she failed to find any clue, till he at length 
said, with a sigh. 

“I have something to tell you. I thought at first 
I would keep it to myself, but I’d rather tell you, 
myself, than have you hear it elsewhere. They’ve 
taken poor Nate away. Did you notice, just now ” 

“ Was that he — with the tall man arm in arm ? 
And was the tall man an officer ? 

George nodded to both questions. 

“ Yes, I’m sorry to say.” 

“Oh, poor Nate. He will be heart broken. 
Why couldn’t they have left him there? Till after 
the funeral at least. Oh, my friend, we have been 
too thoughtless to-day ! Our people at home have 
been suffering.” 

“ And, had you been the sufferer, would you be- 
grudge others a bit of joy?” 

“ No, no, indeed ! ” 

“ Then why be self-reproachful now ? We have 


WAITING FOR THE TRAIN. 


243 


done what we could for them, and that is all even 
they could ask. We will not spoil the day with re- 
grets, or self-upbraidings, now.” 

He spoke in a deep voice, and added hesitantly, 
after a moment. 

“ I have not had so much happiness, myself, but 
that I am greedy of it. This day will stand out 
from all the days of my life. On it you, Joyce La- 
villotte, called me, George Dalton, friend ! ” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


NIGHT WATCHERS. 

The funeral of William Hapgood was over. 
Death had dignified him, and few ventured to speak 
of him as “ Bill,” just now. Lucy had wept con- 
vulsively in her very long and very black veil, and 
Tilly and Rufie had sniveled on either side of her, 
after a last shrill quarrel over which should wear 
the black jacket, and which the cape with a black 
ribbon bow, that Joyce had provided. 

The whole village had attended the obsequies at 
the pretty new church, and favorably commented 
thereon. Mrs. Hemphill thought it a “ turrible 
waste” that they did not have the silver name- 
plate taken off the casket, however, and declared 
solemnly : 

“ Them that buries silver’s like to dig fur copper 
’fore they die theirselves.” 

But the women were all deeply impressed with 
Lucy’s genteel mourning costume, and felt an added 
respect for the litle creature in her trailing crepe. 
Marie and Babette were in and out continually, aid- 
ing and suggesting, and Rachel had stayed with 
Lucy every night. 

244 


NIGHT WATCHERS. 


245 


During one of these she and Babette had been 
asked to “sit up with the corpse,” Gus Peters and 
Dan being chosen to share their vigil. It had taken 
much urging to induce Dan to feel it his duty, but 
at last he had given in with a good grace, and ap- 
peared with Gus promptly at the appointed hour. 
With these people a funeral was often the forerun- 
ner of a wedding. It was quite the proper thing for 
those “ keeping company ” together to sit out the 
long night hours beside the dead, and too often a 
keg of liquor was tapped, over which hilarity" reigned 
to a ghastly degree. 

There was no danger of that in this case, though. 
Neither Gus, nor Dan, was of the drinking set, and 
Lucy had a horror of the stuff, so would not have it 
in the house. All was decorum over the body of 
the man who had been ruined by his own appetite. 

They sat around the fire the cool fall evenings 
required, and talked in low tones. Once in a while 
one or another of the boys would step into the little 
room off, a minute, then come quietly back to the 
group. Bill Hapgood had good care that night. 
But after a time the little group seemed to disinteg- 
rate into pairs. Gus and Babette, sitting side by 
side on the old lounge, dropped their voices to 
whispers, while Dan and Rachel, somewhat with- 
drawn from each other, slowly rocked in two old cane 
chairs. As Dan returned to his seat after one of his 
short absences with the dead, he flung a glance to- 
ward the other couple and remarked, sotto voce. 

“ Gus is getting lots of cheek since he come to 


246 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

be an architect. There was a time he darsn’t look 
at Bab.” 

“ He always liked her, though.” 

“ Oh, of course. Who don’t? She’s pretty and 
good and gay. But she felt above Gus, once.” 

“ Did she ? I never thought so.” 

“He thought so. She would hardly notice 
him.” 

“ Sometimes,” said Rachel slowly, “ folks feel 
offish themselves, and imagine everybody else does. 
I’ve heard Freda Wilkes talk about folks slighting 
her, when she’d go along the street with her head 
so high they couldn’t anybody reach up to her. 
I’m some that way myself, mother says. But I 
don’t know it till it’s over. I get to thinking, and 
forget what’s around me. It seems to me, often, 
as if there was a lot more things in this world — yes, 
and people too — than we can see around us. I 
don’t believe in ghosts, either, at least not the scarey 
kind, but sometimes I seem to get off this earth 
into something higher and better. It’s then I for- 
get folks. But it isn’t pride. I never feel how 
little and ignorant I am as at those times.” 

Dan rocked on silently and looked at the fire. 

He loved to hear Rachel talk. There was a 
peculiar cadence in her voice, a rich depth, unusual 
in young women. There was not a shrill nor com- 
mon strain in it. That “high” look Joyce had 
noted went with high thoughts, and a voice under- 
toned by a beautiful soul. Dan felt this without 
thinking it out in so many words. Another idea 


NIGHT WATCHERS. 


247 


began to force its way into his moody brain. Just 
because Rachel had this unusual quality, this power 
of looking inward, might she not understand the 
complexities of his life better than others? He 
wondered in his tense silence, but did not raise his 
eyes to see. 

His silence finally chilled Rachel, and she, too, 
began to stare at the fire. The low talk of the 
other couple ceased and Gus said, explanatorily, 

“We were just speaking of Mr. Dalton and Miss 
Lavillotte. Bab thinks that’ll be a match.” 

“ She’s good enough for a king,” said Babette, 
“ and as pretty and grand as a princess, and he is 
our king here. Why shouldn’t it be all right ? ” 

“ She’s different from him, though,” returned 
Rachel slowly. “ She’s been brought up different. 
Mr. Dalton has made himself a gentleman, but she 
didn’t have to be made. She is a lady born.” 

“She must have money, too,” said Gus. “She’s 
real generous, I hear ; and I guess it’s true, for I 
know she has a kind way with her.” 

“ I don’t know about her having much money,” 
said Rachel, “ but she seems to feel that we all 
belong to her, somehow, and that she’s got to 
look after us. If the Works, and the whole town, 
too, was her own she couldn’t be more interested.” 

“ She consults lots with Dalton,” spoke up Dan. 
“ But they say they’re connections of some kind, 
and he looks after what property she’s got.” 

“ Then she has means? ” asked Babette. 

“ Must have considerable,” replied Gus. “ That 


248 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

old fellow that works for her told me, once, that if 
she wanted to she could make a big splurge, but 
she wouldn’t do it. He hinted as if she had reasons 
for being so interested here, but I couldn’t pump a 
thing out of him. I guess he likes to boast pretty 
well, and he thinks she made the earth, anyhow.” 

“ It’s queer,” mused Rachel, “ that the new boss 
has never appeared in all these changes and im- 
provements. I should think he’d want to see for 
himself what’s going on. If he cares enough to do 
so much, he ought to care enough to come and look 
on.” 

“ But he’s in Europe, ain’t he ? ” 

“ What makes you think so, Dan ? ” 

“ I asked Mr. Dalton, once, if he’d be here be- 
fore we put in the new annealing furnace, just to 
see what he’d say, and he answered that he thought 
nqt. It would be a long time before young Early 
would reach these shores. So I concluded he was 
across the water.” 

“ You didn’t like Miss Lavillotte at first, did you, 
Rachel ? ” asked young Peter. 

The girl laughed out, a low laugh in deference to 
the dead. 

“ Yes, I liked her so well I tried not to notice her ! 
I expected she’d do something high and mighty to 
make me mad, so I held myself back. But I found 
I didn’t need to. I was soon ashamed of it. She 
can’t help looking different from others. A china 
cup isn’t to blame for looking finer and whiter than 
a brown jug. It’s made so ! ” 


NIGHT WATCHERS. 


249 

“ Speaking of cups and jugs makes me hungry, 
somehow,” observed Gus, glancing about him. 

“ Didn’t they say something about a lunch for us, 
Bab ? ” 

“ Yes, it’s all fixed there in the cupboard. Want 
me to make you a cup of coffee? You know I can 
make good coffee, Gus.” 

Babette could not help being coquettish, even 
amid solemn surroundings at two o’clock in the 
morning. As she spoke she glanced sidewise at the 
young man and tossed back her pretty curling locks 
from her forehead. In a few minutes the coffee-pot 
was slowly steaming over the little gas grate, a de- 
licious odor beginning to exude from its spout. 

The girls, with quiet movements, drew a small 
table before the hearth, and set out thereon cold 
meat, bread, and milk, also the inevitable pie of the 
Americanized workman. The boys helped them, 
or pretended to, and even Dan grew sociable under 
the sense of close companionship and good cheer. 

They had finished their impromptu meal, but were 
still at the table, thoroughly enjoying themselves, 
half forgetful of the awesome figure in the next room, 
when out of the weird stillness came a sudden cry, 
and a dull thud, as of some body falling against a 
solid obstruction. 

Babette clutched at Gus, while Dan’s hand invo- 
luntarily closed over Rachel’s, outstretched in terror. 
Then, ashamed of the momentary start, he drew it 
away and rose from his chair. 

“Sit still,” he said, “till I look into this.” 


250 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

He stepped into the little room, Gus at his heels, 
but both turned back at once, assured all was right 
there. 

“ It’s outside,” said Dan, in a low voice. Some 
drunken man, probably. You stay with the girls, 
and I’ll go out and see.” 

“ Not much,” said Gus indignantly. “ Guess I’m 
no more afraid than you are ! ” 

He had no idea of appearing cowardly before the 
girl of his heart. But she clung to him. 

“ Oh Gus, I’m scared to death ! Don’t go.” 

Dan had already let himself out, bidding Rachel 
lock the door behind him. She turned now to 
Babette. 

“ Come, come, Bab ! ” she said. “ We are not 
going to be nervous and frighten the children.” 

She was interrupted by a shriek, long and blood- 
curdling. The girls clung together, and Gus rushed 
out after Dan, fearing something terrible had oc- 
curred. A frightened cry from upstairs was almost 
a relief from the strain, and the girls fled back to 
the stairway door to meet Lucy and the little girls, 
who were huddled there in a great fright. 

“ What is it ? ” they asked in a whispered chorus. 
Is pa all right ? ” 

Rachel was the only one calm enough to answer. 

“ Some drunken fellow, likely. Come out by the 
fire, girls, or you’ll take cold. Dan has gone to see 
about it.” 

“ And Gus,” added Babette jealously, finding her 
voice to defend her lover. 


NIGHT WATCHERS. 


251 


They all crouched together before the fire, Rachel 
bringing a shawl to wrap around the scantily clad 
sisters, and the five enlarged upon the event in all 
its details, as people do whose range of thought is 
not wide. The morning twilight was gray in the 
room when a noise outside caught their attention. 

“ Dan ! I know his step,” cried Rachel in a joyous 
tone, springing to open the door. 

Lucy and the children fled to shelter behind the 
stairway door, and remained there to hear without 
being seen. Dan stumbled in with an exhausted 
air, and dropped into a chair. 

“ Hasn’t Gus come?” he asked. 

“No, where is he?” cried Babette excitedly. 
“You didn’t leave him alone with the thing, did 
you ? ” 

Dan smiled. 

“ The ‘ thing’, as you call it, was poor old Murfree. 
He got out of bed while the nurse was asleep, and 
has been wandering around enough to kill a well 
person. I did not know who I was following for a 
long time, for sure, but I suspected it was Mur- 
free when I saw he was undressed. He led me an 
odd chase, I tell you ! ” 

“ Oh, tell us all about it ! ” piped up Tilly from 
the stairway. 

Dan looked towards it, then broke into a laugh, 
perhaps the first real mirthful sound that had passed 
his lips since his brother’s death. It made Rachel’s 
heart beat faster with joy and surprise. 

“All right!” he said. “I will. It don’t seem 


252 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

like a sick man could do it, but he did. He struck 
out for the Works as soon as I got outside and I 
after him. Didn’t you hear him shriek. He was 
quite a ways ahead, and I let him keep so. Soon 
as I was sure about him I knew I oughn’t to fright- 
en him by waking him too sudden.” 

“ Why, was he asleep ? ” This from Rufie. 

“ Sure ! But what he did was the queerest. He 
began dodging in and out around the sheds, and 
every now and then he’d stoop and seem to be fixing 
something. Then he’d motion like he was lightin’ 
a match. I kept back and watched him. I knew 
by this time he was either doing over something 
he’d done before which had come to him in a 
dream, or else somebody had hypnotized him. He 
moved just like a machine. I kept thinking he’d 
drop, for it seemed as if he must be worn out, but 
he didn’t for a long time.” 

“But where was Gus all this while?” asked 
Babette. 

“ I don’t know. I think he went some other 
way. I didn’t see him again till Murfree had led me 
along opposite of Dodge’s cow-shed. As long as 
the man was making for home I wouldn’t disturb 
him. But right there what I expected happened. 
He fell in a dead faint. And just then, mighty 
luckily for me, Gus came up. We couldn’t manage 
him alone, so we called up Jim Dodge out of bed, 
and he helped us get him into the house. Everybody 
was out hunting Murfree up, so we had to stay till 
I could call Dr. Browne by ’phone and we could 


NIGHT WATCHERS. 


253 


get him warmed up once more. I left Gus there, 
to come and tell you, for I knew you’d worry. I 
guess this night’ll finish poor old Tonguey Murfree ! 
Queer, wasn’t it ? ” 

He was looking at Rachel, and she answered, 
thrilling to the naturalness of his look and tone, 
after these weary months of deepest gloom and. 
silence. The old Dan seemed to have come back 
to her out of the long, gruesome night. She un- 
derstood, without explanation, that these adven- 
tures had taken him out of himself, that care and 
thought for others had lifted him above the murk 
of his own despair. He was as alert, interested, 
and ready to talk, as ever he used to be. As she 
plied him with questions she longed in some tangible 
way to show her quickened sympathy and gladness. 
She wanted to clasp his hand, to touch his arm, to 
smile up into his eyes. But she was proud ; and 
then she feared to break the happy spell. 

Instead, she set the coffee over, and when it had 
boiled, brought it to his side. 

“ I know you’re tired and hungry, Dan. I’ll fix 
you up a cup that will make you fresh again. You 
like just a little milk, I know, but plenty of sugar. 
And here’s the last piece of pie.” 

Rachel was true to the traditions of her class. 
She knew the way to a man’s heart. Dan ate and 
drank, feeling that some barrier was down between 
them. This was not the Rachel of yes'terday, who 
without seeming to repulse him, yet held herself so 
high and far he dare not believe in her kindness, 


254 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 


even. Was it his hand that had swept that barrier 
away? Yet he had sworn never to do that while 
the memory of his brother stood between them, for 
he firmly believed that Rachel had been Will’s 
promised wife. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


CAMILLE SPEAKS OUT. 

“ There’S George Dalton going to Joyce’s again,” 
remarked Camille, turning from the library window 
which looked towards the other house. “ They 
seem to find plenty of matters to discuss, lately.” 

“ I can well believe it,” replied her mother calmly. 
“ What with hurrying to complete all the houses be- 
fore snow falls, and looking after Nate’s trial and 
Lucy’s family, it keeps Joyce on the anxious seat.” 

“ Oh well, she likes it,” laughed the girl. “ There, 
he’s gone in now. He always comes to the house 
to talk nowadays, instead of her going to the 
office.” 

“ It’s a better plan, I think.” 

“You always think everything is either good, 
better, or best, mother. But it seems to me ” 

She stopped to study the Madame’s sightless 
countenance, until that lady asked, laughingly, 

“ Well, what has cut you off, child ? I imagine 
you suspended in mid-air.” 

Camille joined in the laugh, but not too heartily. 

“ I was going to say, it seems to me there’s some- 
thing more than business in it all, ma m£re.” 

Madame Bonnivel looked up quickly. 


255 


256 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ Are you justified in saying that, daughter? ” 

“ I don’t know. I only spoke of the way in which it 
strikes me. There now ! He’s coming out, and Joyce 
with him. She has on her new jacket and her best 
walking hat. I do verily believe they are going 
into the city. And I was going myself this after- 
noon, then gave it up — how provoking! She looks 
odd, Joyce does.” 

“ How, odd ? ” 

“Well, excited perhaps. She doesn’t seem to 
see, or think, of anything but just what she is do- 
ing. I wonder if anything has happened, or if it’s 
just being with him ? ” 

“ Camille, dear, is it quite the thing to stand and 
comment on your neighbor, so ? ” 

“Why, it’s only Joyce, mother. And I won’t 
any longer. She’s out of sight now, anyway, and 
gone straight toward the station, too. But, I will 
maintain, she consults twice as much with that 
manager lately as with you, mother. You know 
that as well as I do.” 

A slight contraction of the Madame’s smooth 
brow proved that the shaft had hit. 

“Yes, that is probable enough. It isn’t to be 
wondered at, either. He is her manager, and an 
excellent one. Camille, did you say Leon enclosed 
a note to Joyce in his last letter to you ? ” 

The girl’s face broke into a mischievous grin. 
“What made you think of that just now, dear? 
Yes he did, but it was a short one, and she didn’t 
show it to me. I wish he would come home ! ” 


CAMILLE SPEAKS OUT. 


257 


The Madame sighed. 

“ So do I. After all, what prospects in life has 
a naval officer without private property? He must 
always be gone from home, where he may be ex- 
posed to unknown dangers. He can scarcely hope 
to form family ties.” 

“Humph! Joyce’s husband needn’t be in the 
navy, if she doesn’t like to have him, mother.” 

“ Hush, child, don’t be absurd ! They are like 
brother and sister.” 

“ But they are not brother and sister, and I’m 
glad of it — if that Dalton will keep his distance. I 
don’t know but it’s my duty to make up to him, 
myself.” 

“ Camille ! Don’t be coarse.” 

“ Coarse ! You ought to hear most of the girls 
talk. Well, good-by. I told Joyce I’d go and 
tend library this afternoon, and I must be off. I’ll 
send Dodo in to keep you out of mischief.” 

She stooped to kiss the smooth cheek, where 
time had been sparing of wrinkles, and her mother 
drew her down for a closer caress. 

“Adieu, my love. One of the lessons my blind- 
ness teaches me is that, a great many times in this 
world, the hardest work we are given is just to sit 
one side and neither speak, nor act. It is then 
prayer becomes an unspeakable blessing.” 

“ Mother, you’re awfully good ! I won’t meddle ; 
don’t worry. Here’s Dodo. She hasn’t learned 
that lesson yet, less her heart ! Now don’t let 
Mamma mope, Blossom.” 

17 


258 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ Me’ll tate tare ob her. S’e tan p’ay wiv mine 
Wobin, an’ hoi’ mine dolly.” 

Camille disappeared, throwing kisses as she went. 
The library she mentioned was one in connection 
with the school, and somewhat chaotic in condition. 
Joyce had bought a selected lot of good reading 
matter in paper covers, with which to start a cir- 
culating library, and with the assistance of the 
Bonnivels, was getting it in shape. In the absence 
of a catalogue the books were now numbered on 
the backs, and when issued the corresponding num- 
ber, on a slip of paper marked the vacant place on 
the shelf. In addition, the name of the drawer had 
to be recorded, making the work of distribution 
something of a task. As yet no regular librarian 
had been appointed. Joyce thought that either Dan 
or Rachel could do the work satisfactorily, but both 
were valuable glass- workers, and Dalton demurred 
at giving up any of their time. So the matt'er rested. 

Though well into the Fall the day had come off 
sunny and mild. As always, in such weather, that 
part of the population not confined in the factory was 
pretty well turned out of doors. Camille, crossing 
the park from one end to the other, noted the 
women standing about in groups, or passing from 
cottage to cottage, and wondered when they ever 
found time for their household duties. She ex- 
changed pleasant nods with those she met — all liked 
her gay, gypsyish face and easy manners — and was 
in great good humor when the school-house was 
reached. 


CAMILLE SPEAKS OUT. 


259 

It was still early and the children not dismissed, 
but already a large group of women were waiting 
in the library room. Among these, so demure and 
still as to seem oldest of all, waited Lucy Hapgood. 
Camille could scarcely keep back a smile at sight 
of her incongruous attire. Her gown was a cotton 
one of a washed out indigo-blue, with large polka 
spots that had once been white, before the other 
color had beclouded them. Over this, as if apol- 
ogizing and condoning, streamed the sombre veil, 
more suitable for a widow than for that round- 
faced child. But Lucy drew it about her with 
a tender touch, as she sat apart, and Camille 
could plainly note her satisfaction in its heavy 
folds. 

The latter at once began ber work of distribution, 
that these older people might be disposed of before 
the school children should come trooping in. 
When Lucy’s turn arrived, and she took her place 
before the little railing, like a veiled oriental mute, 
Camille looked down upon her with an air of good 
comradeship, and said, 

“ I know you’ll want something bright and wide 
awake. I don’t believe you like doleful books any 
better than I do.” 

Lucy’s demure face lightened, but she seemed to 
hesitate for a reply. 

“ I did like that kind,” she said finally, “ but now 
I don’t know. Mis’ Hemphill said I ought to read 
something sober, nowadays. There’s a book about 
a girl that was took up because they thought she’d 


260 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

killed her father, and they tried to torment and 
torture her into telling.” 

“ Good gracious ! Such a book would be the 
death of you. Is she crazy ? I’ll pick you out some- 
thing. Now, here’s the loveliest story ! It’s about 
two merry, sensible girls who found themself ob- 
liged to earn their own living. They did not sit down 
and cry, but just went about it, as gay and jolly 
as you please, and they had lots of funny adven- 
tures, but conquered in the end. I know you’d 
like it.” 

Lucy looked at the volume wistfully. 

“ Do you think I ought to ? ” she whispered. 

“ Of course I do. Why not ? Look it over, at 
least.” 

She took the book, dipped into it here and there, 
looked at the illustrations, then glanced up with a 
flushing cheek. 

“ I know Td like it and, if you say so — ” 

“ Certainly I say so. What’s its number ? ” 

“ One hundred and twenty.” 

“All right. Now, you read every word of it, 
and tell me how you like it when you bring it back, 
will you ? ” 

Lucy tucked it carefully under her veil, but 
lingered. 

“ Isn’t Miss Lav’lotte going to be here to-day? ” 

“No, I think she went into the city, probably to 
see Mr. Nate Tierney.” 

Camille spoke deliberately, turning to replace a 
volume in the large pine case as she did so. 


CAMILLE SPEAKS OUT. 


261 

“ Do — do you know where ’tis she goes to see 
him ? ” asked the girl in a low voice, glancing about 
her with a furtive air. 

Camille looked at her quickly. 

“ Don’t you know ? Haven’t they told you ? ” 

“ Then he is in — jail ? ” 

Camille nodded regretfully. 

“ I kinder thought maybe Mr. Dalton might get 
him out,” was the next remark in a despairing tone. 

“ I hope they will soon, Lucy, but it takes time. 
Have you been to see him yet ? ” 

“ I ? ” Lucy started, and stared at her. 

4 Yes, you to be sure. He has been such a good 
friend of yours. Of course they’ll do all they can — 
Mr. Dalton and Joyce — but you know him so much 
better he could tell you things he wouldn’t them. 
Then, he must get awfully lonely for his own friends. 
He suffers terribly over it all.” 

“ But — but — you know what he’s in jail for ? ” 

“ Of course. But nobody believes he is guilty. 
Miss Lavillotte says, and so does every one, that it 
was just an accident.” 

“ He was mad at pa, though, fearful mad ! ” 

“ Yes, he owns to that. But he had gotten con- 
trol of himself. He simply meant to shut him up 
where he could not harm you.” 

Lucy sighed. 

“ I wish I was sure. Nate never lied to me in his 
life. If he’d say it solemn and true I’d believe it.” 

“Why don’t you go to see him, then, and ask all 
about it ? ” 


262 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“Oh, I couldn’t. What would people say?” 

She shrank back as if from a blow. 

“ Do you always stop to think about that ? ’’ asked 
Camille with contempt. “ Why don’t you figure 
out what is really right and then go ahead ? I do.” 

Lucy studied her a minute, then asked in return, 

“ Do you think it’s right to care more for other 
folks than for your own family ? ” 

“ I don’t think it’s natural, but, if you do, there 
must be something wrong w^th the family. We 
generally like those nearest to us, if they’ll let us.” 

“Yes, that’s so,” said the other eagerly, as if new 
light were coming to her. 

“ As far as family is concerned, though, I like 
Joyce Lavillotte better than any cousin I have, 
almost better than my own sister, and she is no re- 
lation at all.” 

“ Isn’t she ? ” 

“ Not the slightest. And my mother, I do believe, 
likes her better than anybody in the world. ” 

“ Not better’ll you — her own girl ? ” 

“Just as well, I’m sure. And it’s all right, too. 
I would not have it otherwise. They say this Mr. 
Tierney has always been kindness itself to you and 
the children ; I should think you ought to love him 
just as well as if he were your big brother.” 

“ Do you think so — really ? ” 

“ I know it.” 

Something of perplexed sadness fell away from 
the child’s face, and just then the measured beat of 
young feet being marched through the halls pro- 


CAMILLE SPEAKS OUT. 263 

claimed that school was dismissed. Lucy turned 
quickly and grasped at Camille. 

“ Say, I don’t know where to go nor how to get 
at him. I don’t know where to write to him, even. 
If you’d tell Miss Lav’lotte, don’t you b’lieve she’d 
go with me, or something ? She’s so kind.” 

“ Of course she would. I’ll tell her.” 

“ And see here, you — you won’t tell anybody 
else ? ” speaking low and hurriedly for the children 
were at the door. 

“Tell! Of course not! But Lucy, what ails 
you is you have been so used to care and sorrow 
that you don’t dare to catch the least ray of sun- 
shine that comes to you. Now, that’s all wrong. 
You ought to talk with my mother. Come and 
see us some day, on the knoll, will you ? Come 
soon.” 

“ Oh may I ? How lovely to ask me ! ” Lucy’s 
face fairly shone at the thought. “ Good by,” she 
whispered, fairly squeezing Camille’s little brown 
paw, ” good-by. “ I’ll come, sure,” and dropping 
the thick veil to hide smiles rather than tears, she 
glided out between the ranks of impatient children, 
who looked after her with awed interest. 

That evening Camille, full of frank curiosity, 
tripped across to the other house, tapping lightly 
on the side door opening upon the driveway, and 
entered without waiting for admission. The room 
she stepped into was unlighted, except from the 
hall beyond, but crossing -both she came into a de- 
lightful little apartment, softly illumined with lamps 


264 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

which shed a rosy light through their silken shades. 
A couple of logs burned on the brass andirons of 
the fireplace with an aromatic odor that suggested 
deep pine woods. 

Before them a couch was drawn, upon which 
Joyce nestled lazily amid a nest of pillows. At a 
table, little withdrawn, Ellen was reading aloud 
from a late magazine, the rosy light making her 
look almost young and handsome to-night. She 
withdrew, after a word or two of greeting, while 
Joyce without stirring, said drowsily, 

“ I know you won’t ask me to get up, Camille ; 
you are too good-natured. Come, take this easy 
little rocker and tell me all you know.” 

“ No thank you. I’ve come to put you to the 
question, my lady ! Who told you you could go off 
to the city with that handsome George Dalton when 
I had given up the trip just because I hated to go 
alone ? ” 

“Had you? What a pity we did not know!” 

» The lamps made Joyce’s cheeks a lovely color. 
“ Of course our business would have been a bore to 
you, but we could have met for a nice time some- 
where, later.” 

“ How do you know it would have been a bore? 
And what was ‘ our ’ business, anyhow? ” 

“ Camille, we are both convinced that poor Loz- 
coski has been unjustly accused, and Murfree is the 
real criminal. To get the Pole out of prison, and 
to keep Murfree out, requires some manoeuvring, 
and a lot of Hawing,’ as Gilbert calls it.” 


CAMILLE SPEAKS OUT. 265 

“ But why keep that old Murfree out ? I should 
think he deserved all he can get.” 

“ I suppose he does, but the poor man is so ill. 
It’s a cruel world, dear — but a beautiful one, too ! ” 

“ Then, didn’t you go to see the Tierney man ? ” 
asked Camille, more interested in that tragedy than 
the other. 

“ Yes, we did. He has every comfort, and we 
secured him the best of counsel. We are sure he 
will be acquitted.” 

Camille winked at the fire, a smile on her lips. 
That “ we ” tickled her. She glanced around at 
Joyce, who lay dreamily gazing into the blaze, her 
eyes and thoughts far away. She broke into a little 
laugh which attracted the dreamer’s attention, and 
as the latter turned her head surprisedly, she said. 

“ Do you realize how funny that ‘we’ and ‘ our ’ 
sound, Joycie dear? Six months ago you thought 
little enough of George Dalton, and now he is in 
everything you do.” 

“ Well, it’s his business to be, child. Six months 
ago I did not understand nor appreciate him — now, 
I do.” 

Camille gave a grunt. 

“ We don’t see anything of you at all, any more,” 
she flung out, almost spitefully. 

“I have been very busy, sweetheart. Did you 
eat pickled peppers for supper? I wouldn’t. They 
spoil your — complexion.” 

Camille had to laugh at the tone of this, and at 
the other’s merry eyes. 


266 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ No, I didn’t, and I’ve been good all day. I went 
to your old library concern and attended to it beauti- 
fully, and I talked to Lucy like a grandmother, and 
gave her splendid advice. She really chirked up 
wonderfully, and tried to hide her smiles behind 
that ridiculous veil. Isn’t she funny ? ” 

“ Or pathetic — which ? But you've been a good 
child, I see. Now, try the same process on me. I’m 
all tired out and need ‘ chirking,’ too.” 

“ You may be tired, but it hasn’t struck in, Joyce. 
You’re just beaming inside, and it shines through.” 

Joyce laughed and snuggled down closer into her 
pillows. 

“ What sharp eyes you have ! So you don’t ap- 
prove of me unless I am weary inside, as well as 
out ? ” 

“ I do too, only — well, this is just the way you 
used to look when we were expecting Leon home, 
and we are not expecting him now.” 

“ Oh, you think I have mistaken the occasion ? I 
see ! ” She spoke in a tone Camille knew of old 
which, though seldom used towards a Bonnivel, 
could hold almost any one in check. So the girl 
went on rapidly, determined to have her say out, 

“ I won’t beat about the bush any more. I be- 
lieve you are perfectly happy with George Dalton, 
and don’t want anybody else. Now, aren’t you ? 
Own up ! ” 

Joyce had burrowed so deeply by this time that 
only one pink ear was visible, and Camille was look- 
ing at this with a determined expression when a 


CAMILLE SPEAKS OUT. 267 

quick, firm step was heard in the hall — in fact, more 
than one — and Larry’s voice called impatiently. 

“ Where are you girls, anyhow? Can’t you let a 
wanderer in without the ceremony of an announce- 
ment ? ” 

“ Here ! ” called Camille rising, while Joyce hast- 
ily shook up the pillows and arranged her hair. 
“ What’s wanted of us? ” 

“Very little,” cried Larry, bouncing in with a 
beaming face. “ I’ve simply brought you a new 
beau,” and he pointed behind him to a tall, straight 
figure in dark blue, which stood at “attention,” 
smiling happily. 

“ Leon ! ” cried Camille, springing to his arms, and 
Joyce was thankful for the instant’s space in which 
to collect herself. 

When he turned quickly to her both hands were 
out to meet his own, but she neither paled nor 
flushed as her eyes met his with a glance of truest 
friendship and camaraderie. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


NOT WELCOME. 

They visited long that evening, and Joyce slept 
late the next day. -When she arose Ellen hastened 
to inform her that Lucy Hapgood had telephoned 
to ask when she might call and talk with her a few 
moments, and that Mr. Dalton was below, waiting 
for a certain architect’s drawing Joyce had wished 
him to see, but would not let her be disturbed till 
she awoke of her own accord. 

“ I told him, if ’twas just a drawin’ that I’d bring 
the pile of ’em, and let him pick out what he wanted, 
seeing he was in a hurry,” explained Ellen, “ but he 
seemed to think he’d better wait till you come, so I 
let him. But I was bound I wouldn’t wake you up, 
if he stayed all day ! ” 

“ Thank you, Ellen, but never fear to waken me 
when he — or any one — is waiting. Has he been here 
long ? ” 

“ No, only ten minutes or so, and he’s got that 
album ’ts got your pictures ranged along ever sence 
you was a baby. I guess he’ll git along. What 
shall I ’phone that Hapgood girl ? ” 

“ Ask her to come in an hour from now, if she 

can. Oh, is that my new house-gown ? You have 
268 


NOT WELCOME. 269 

it all finished, and how pretty it is ! Had I better 
put it on?” 

“That’s what ’twas made for, wa’n’t it? Of 
course ! ” 

Ellen, herself, adjusted its lace and ribbons, then 
watched Joyce’s descent to the lower floor with ap- 
proving eyes. 

“ There ain’t many ’twould make her look so well 
on so little, that’s certain. But then again there 
ain’t many that needs so little to make ’em look 
well, so I guess it’s a stand-off. And she’s always 
pleased with what I do, and that’s comforting,” she 
remarked to the balustrade. 

George Dalton stepped forward to meet his em- 
ployer with extended hand, and did not immediately 
resign the fingers committed to his clasp. 

“ I felt that I nearly walked you to death yester- 
day,” he observed apologetically, “ and ought to as- 
sure myself of your health this morning. You look 
very fresh and beau — and ready, for anything.” 

“ Oh, I am ; though I was up half the night in 
addition, which explains my laziness this morning. 
I suppose you know who has come?” 

“ No, I’ve not heard. Mr. Barrington hasn’t 
ventured into the wilds, has he ? Or that other 
lawyer, Mr. West ? ” 

“ No.” Joyce shook her head, shrinking unac- 
countably from making the simple statement, and 
wishing Ellen had been more communicative with 
the visitor. “ It’s Madame Bonnivel’s son, the naval 
officer, Leon.” 


2 JO 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 


“ Oh!” 

The little exclamation was prolonged, and some- 
thing seemed to die out of the young man’s face. 
To her own disgusted surprise she felt herself trem- 
bling and flushing. How silly it all was ! The 
manager stepped back stiffly, and picked up his soft 
hat from the chair upon which he had carelessly 
tossed it when he came bravely in, a few moments 
since, feeling himself an assured and welcome guest. 
As he regained it the old, stern manner, almost for- 
gotten of late, fell over him like a mantle. 

“ This Bonnivel has been in the war, has he ? ” 

“ No, not in active service. They have been kept 
cruising between Florida and Key West, on guard 
duty. His ship is the ‘ Terror ’ ? ” 

“ Ah ! ” 

He looked at her, trying to remember where that 
name had come up before. Then it appeared to 
him in a flash. 

“ Why, that’s where Lozcoski served ? ” 

“Yes, I suppose so.” 

“ And you tried to question him about the cap- 
tain’s name.” 

“You see, I wanted to make sure that he was on 
that ship. His forgetting seemed to make it doubt- 
ful.” 

“ But is this Bonnivel captain?” 

“Oh, no indeed, only lieutenant of the engineer- 
ing corps. He is quite young.” 

He looked at Tier blankly, and felt himself Me- 
thuselah in his thirty-fourth year. He could not 


NOT WELCOME. 


271 


think of another question to ask, so, fingering his 
hat in awkward fashion, turned slowly as if to leave, 
his errand quite forgotten. 

Joyce felt the chill that had come over him, but 
could not see how to dispel it. There seemed noth- 
ing to say, though there had been a thousand things 
yesterday. How stupid she must seem ! 

“ I — I’m expecting Lucy,” she brought out finally) 
catching at this straw of a subject gladly. “ I 
wonder what she can want to see me about so par- 
ticularly.” 

“ Did you tell her she was to be subpoenaed as 
witness for the prosecution?” he asked, trying to 
be business-like. 

“No, I didn’t. I’m afraid it will trouble her 
greatly.” 

“ Doubtless.” His manner dropped into listless- 
ness, and by slow stages he now reached the door. 
He would have been out of it in a second when a 
quick tap on the other, which opened into a side 
corridor, was followed by the entrance of Camille, 
with her brother in tow. 

“ Are you up at last ? ” she cried gaily. “ We’ve 
been waiting hours for you — oh, good morning, Mr. 
Dalton.” 

That gentleman bowed stiffly from the doorway, 
and Joyce with an effort, drew herself together. 

“ Good morning, Camille ! Leon, this is Mr. 
Dalton, of whom you have heard so much in my 
letters. You will scarcely need to scrape acquaint- 
ance. What’s on the docket this morning, Gypsy ? ” 


272 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

Leon had advanced smilingly, with extended hand, 
prepared to fully like the man who had been such an 
able assistant to Joyce. But the sudden conscious- 
ness that it was only as her employee that this young 
officer had thought of him, and Joyce’s own out- 
spoken declaration as to the correspondence between 
them, stung George Dalton to the quick. 

He was not versed in the ways of society, and this 
insecurity left him helpless how to act in such an 
emergency. To ignore it never occurred to him ; he 
could only resent it. He bowed too low to see Leon’s 
extended hand, and saying frostily, “ I am honored 
to meet you, sir ! ” turned on his heel and stalked 
out with no further word. 

“ The coolness of him ! ” cried Camille, indig- 
nantly, while her brother’s dark eyes turned aston- 
ishedly from one to the other. 

“Was I to blame? What ailed him anyhow?” 
he asked quickly. 

“ Just a lack of good manners,” returned Camille 
in a disgusted tone. “ One never knows where such 
people will break out next.” 

Joyce felt something flare up so hotly within her 
that she had to turn away, so that neither might 
notice her deep chagrin. She changed the subject 
entirely by her next remark, and Dalton’s name was 
not again mentioned. 

But when Camille proposed the drive the two had 
planned, Joyce found Lucy’s promised call a suf- 
ficient excuse to decline going. Her neighbors 
would not be so easily put off, however. 


NOT WELCOME. 


273 


“ How absurd, Joyce ! ’Phone her to come later, 
can’t you ? We’ll be back by two or three o’ clock. 
You know Leon’s furlough only lasts a fortnight.” 

“ But it may be a grave matter with Lucy. Have 
you told Leon of our tragic happenings, here ? I 
believe I have not written them ? ” giving him a 
quick glance. 

“ No, you haven’t — nor anything else. I began 
to think you had dropped me from your list, Joyce.” 

“ I have been so busy. No, I must not put Lucy 
off just for my own pleasure.” 

“And ours.” Leon was studying her face with a 
thoughtful expression on his own. She seemed 
unreal to him, somehow. 

“ Oh, I shall claim all the rest of your day. I want 
you all to come over for dinner to-night, down to 
Dodo. You won’t disappoint me?” 

“ I don’t know,” pouted Camille, unappeased. 

“ Well, I do,” said Leon heartily, still oblivious to 
currents and counter-currents. “ I shall come at 
any rate, and I doubt not the rest will come trailing 
after. Perhaps, Joyce, you won’t refuse a drive 
alone with me, to-morrow?” 

“ We will see.” 

“ I know you have plenty of calls upon your time, 
but I won’t keep you long. Will you go ? ” 

He looked straight into her eyes with the old 
commanding manner, which she had never been 
able to resist. She smiled and murmured “Yes,” 
but, to her own dazed surprise, her whole soul roused 
up to whisper emphatically “No ! ” 

18 


274 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

And she did not go, after all. When Lucy ap- 
peared it was to beg with tears that she might be 
taken to see poor Nate, and Joyce gladly promised 
all that she desired. Her pride once broken down, 
Lucy sobbed and cried in an abandon of sorrow, 
letting her childish heart lie bare beneath Joyce’s 
tender gaze. The latter told the child she could 
not leave that day on account of the dinner-party, 
but would be ready early in the morning for the 
first train. 

“ I will have to excuse myself to Leon,” she 
thought with an odd lightening at her heart. 

And then, as the vision of his fine face and figure, 
his grace of manner, his joyous frankness and charm 
of conversation, rose before her, a wave of astonish- 
ment, almost of protest, swept over her till the tears 
rose in her eyes. What had so changed her that 
she should be glad to avoid her old friend ? 

The dinner, as Camille remarked once or twice, 
was a strictly family affair. Mrs. Phelps, who hap- 
pened in on an errand just as they were gathering, 
so reported it at her own tea-table, soon afterwards, 
with glowing comments on the “handsome young 
officer ” who had just come home. 

Her nephew listened without replying, and did 
not finish his second delicate muffin, though she had 
baked them herself with the expectation that he 
would dispose of several, as was his custom. She 
noticed, but set it down to some unknown bother 
over business, and wondered whether there had been 
trouble with any of the furnaces, or if some order 


NOT WELCOME. 


275 


had been returned on his hands. She knew too 
much to ask, though. It was never easy to ques- 
tion George, even in his most relaxed moods. 
Joyce was about the only one who had ever at- 
tempted it successfully. 

The meal over, he wandered outside, and stood 
with his hands in his pockets, looking aimlessly 
around him, with a feeling of wonder mingled with 
his sense of desolation. It had never occurred to 
him, before, to find time hanging heavily on his 
hands, to wonder what he should do next. Work 
had always driven him, and even after his special 
hours were over, there were countless duties for the 
manager. Then, it was always such a delight to find 
a few moments for reading, where he had so little 
leisure that a lull was seized with avidity. 

But to-night the very thought of bills, or books, 
disgusted him ! He turned sharply away from the 
factory, and, avoiding the knoll at the other end of 
town, struck out for the open country. It happened 
to be the road Dan so often traveled, though George 
did not know that. He found its scenes entirely 
new, had he noticed them. He was not a man who 
found much time for country strolls. 

It was not yet dark, and the pink glow of a fine 
sunset still lingered in the air, which was soft and 
still. The first frosts had tinged the outermost 
leaves of the maples, and the sumach was brilliant 
in the hedges, yet the bulk of the foliage was still 
green, for in that locality winter held off, some- 
times, until December ushered him in. The green 


2/6 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

of the trees, vivified by the late rains, thrown out 
against this rosy sky, was as satisfying as the odor 
of flowering currant in the early spring. It made 
one love the world. The dust was beaten down 
into smooth swirls in the road, and the footpath, 
worn in the sod alongside, felt hard as cement 
under his leather soles. The silence and beauty of 
it all soothed him, and the rhythm of his own 
tramp, tramp, steadied his nerves and relieved the 
tension at his throat. He began to relax from jaw 
to instep, and presently found himself softly whis- 
tling one of the late coon songs, with its quaint 
“ rag-time,” which had caught his ear and held his 
memory ever since he had heard it, a week or two 
ago. 

At a certain place the footpath broke and mingled 
with others. Glancing up and around, he saw a 
wood at his side, and just here a cattle-gate in the 
rail fence, through which a herd had evidently 
passed, not long since, to be milked and housed in 
the home barn for the night. The gate was left 
carelessly open, as if it did not matter now, and, 
lured by the dark interior, he slipped in. 

It took a nimble winding in and out to avoid 
tree-roots, underbrush, and marshy tracts, till at 
length he came to an open glade by a small stream. 
It impressed him how regularly the trees grew 
about this glade. They seemed trimmed up just so 
high, like a hedge. After a moment’s thought, he 
discovered the reason. The trimming was done by 
the cattle, and the length of their stretched necks 


NOT WELCOME. 


277 


determined the height of the trimming. A gar- 
ener with clippers could not have made a neater job 
of it. 

Pleased with the beauty of the spot, he lingered 
some time. Nature’s charm was almost an unknown 
quantity to him, but it held him in close bonds to- 
night. After a while, as it darkened, he rose from 
the fallen log upon which he had been sitting, and 
began to follow the little stream, still wrapped in 
far-away thoughts. The twilight had settled into a 
night that was moonless, but had that luminosity 
often seen on clear nights in late autumn. He 
could see all about him, even in the wood. As he 
reached another somewhat open space, coming upon 
it silently from behind a thick growth of under- 
brush, with only the narrow cow-path to cut it, 
a sound arrested him, and, lying flat on the ground, 
he saw the figure of a man. The sound was a groan. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


NIGHT HAPPENINGS. 

He stopped, paralyzed into rigidity for the in- 
stant, and a sobbing voice broke upon him, 

“ Oh, if I could only know ! Is she yours, or 
not ? Why can’t you come out of space and an- 
swer me ? I would have given my heart’s blood 
for you, yet it seems as if, all the time, I must seem 
to take yours. What was Rachel to you, Will ? 
Answer ! Answer ! ” 

The cry was almost a shriek, but Dalton knew the 
voice, and, after the instant’s dazed astonishment, 
comprehended the scene. His first impulse, which 
he would have acted upon a few weeks since, was 
to steal away undetected ; his second, born of his 
own sadness to-night, was to stay and help the poor 
fellow, if he could. He took a step forward, and 
spoke softly, 

“ Dan ! ” 

The boy sat up with a sudden jerk, and gazed at 
him, wide-eyed, white as the froth in the stream’s 
eddies. 

“ Will ! ” he whispered. “ Have you come at 
last ? ” 

“ No, no, Dan ! It’s I, Dalton. I just happened 
278 


NIGHT HAPPENINGS. 


279 


here, or possibly I was sent. How do we know, but 
Will directed me here ? My poor boy, let me sit 
beside you and tell you something. May I ?” 

Dan bowed his head respectfully, as he muttered, 

“ Oh, the boss 1 ” 

“ Listen, Dan. I know how this tragic death of 
your brother’s has preyed upon you, and cut you 
off from your friends. But can’t you see, in the 
light of poor Nate’s similar experience, how little 
you are blamed — how, instead, you are sympathized 
with ? Have you heard a word from the boys, ex- 
cept pity for him ? It was a terrible accident in 
both cases, and worse in yours, but neither you nor 
Nate can be blamed.” 

“ But they’ve got him shut up.” 

“ Until the matter can be tried, yes. I haven’t a 
doubt of his acquittal, though, and it’s better for 
Nate to be tried and acquitted, than to have the 
affair left in doubt.” 

“ I almost wish they’d tried me.” 

“ Why, Dan, there was never even a charge 
against you. Everybody, from the coroner out, 
knew it was an accident. And Dan, I’m going to 
say one thing more. Your brother was not engaged 
to Rachel Hemphill. I know that ! ” 

Dan started. 

“ How ? ” he whispered huskily. 

“ From his own lips. It was only a few days be- 
fore he — went. I came upon them talking together, 
and Will, saying good-by to her, turned and 
joined me, to ask some question, or other. I liked 


280 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

him well, as you know, and began guying him a 
little about Rachel ; and what do you think he 
said ? ” 

“ What ? ” 

“ He laughed out in his happy way, and looked 
me in the face with dancing eyes. ‘ Why, don’t 
you know — but of course you don’t/ he said, ‘ for I 
found it all out by accident, myself. Rache isn’t 
the girl to give herself away, and you mustn’t let 
on if I tell you.’ I promised good faith and he bent 
over and said, low and gently, ‘ I’m awfully fond of 
Rache, but not that way. It’s for a sister I want 
her, and perhaps I’ll have her, too. For I’ve found 
out she’s gone on Dan — dear old Dan ! Isn’t that 
too good to be true ? ’ And then he actually squeezed 
my hand in his joy.” 

Dan had clutched at Dalton’s knee, as if to steady 
himself, and sat strained forward, his whole being 
concentrated in the act of listening. At length he 
slowly turned his head, and gazed steadily into the 
other’s eyes. A star, just above the little opening 
where they sat, lighted them with its shining. 
Each could see to read the truth in the other’s 
face. 

“You are speaking as before God, George Dal- 
ton ? ” 

“ As before God, Daniel Price.” 

“ Then may He bless you forever ! ” 

Their hands clasped warmly and, after a little 
while, during which neither had spoken, Dan stood 
up. 


NIGHT HAPPENINGS. 


281 


“ I want to go home and think about it,” he said. 

“ And, first, I’m going to a place I have near here, 
to get some things. It’s a place I won’t need any- 
more. Pm going to put the whole thing back of 
me, and live like Will did. Don’t you think that 
will please him best ? ” 

“ I know it will, Dan.” 

“ And Mr. Dalton, it ain’t any of my business, 
but us folks can’t help noticing how things are go- 
ing with our bosses — specially when we’re fond of 
them. I hope it’s true about you and Miss Lavil- 
lotte, for I believe you’re just made for each other 
— you don’t mind my speaking out ? ” 

“ No, Dan ; it’s all been speaking out to-night. 
Just between ourselves and the Heaven up there. 
And, in that way, I’ll say, I’m afraid, my boy, Pm 
afraid ! She’s away beyond me.” 

“ She’s a beauty, and like a queen, but she isn’t 
too good for you, sir.” 

“ Thank you, Dan, but you don’t know all.” 

Dalton had risen now, and they stood facing each 
other. Something in his voice made Dan look at 
him keenly. 

“ Rachel has suspected something, and she’s 
whispered it to me, sir. We’ve been wondering if 
there is a ‘young Early,’ and if there isn’t — ” He 
stopped, and Dalton’s hand pressed his arm. 

“ Dan, I can trust you and Rachel?” 

“ To the death, sir ! ” 

“ Then, you understand. She is the one. She owns 
it all. You see, now, why I cannot aspire to her.” 


282 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ Nd, sir, I don’t! I see why you’re just the man 
to help her in doing a great, good work, and making 
of us all the loyalest workmen that ever lived. 
Don’t you never give her up, sir, never ! ” 

“ Not if there are older claimants on the field?” 

“ But are there ?” 

“ One has come — a spruce young naval officer — 
no, I’ll be fair ; — a fine, handsome, well-bred fellow, 
every inch a man in appearance. And she corre- 
sponds with him.” 

“ But what could he do in her life, sir ? He’d pull 
one way, and she another. Don’t you give her up ! ” 

“ I’ll hang till she shakes me, Dan ! ” laughed the * 
other, lapsing into the slang of the men as his hopes 
rose. 

They said good-night and took their several ways, 
Dan to break up the little retreat in the woods, 
which he no longer needed, since hope and action 
were to supersede despair and remorseful grief ; Dal- 
ton to tramp sturdily back to the village, resolved 
to wait and work. 

As he neared the settlement he noticed lights 
ablaze in Bachelor’s Row, and many figures flitting 
about with hurried movements. He stopped to in- 
quire the cause. Mrs. Hemphill edged her way close 
to him, breaking in before the slower speech of the 
man so questioned had forced its way out. 

“ Why, you see Murfree’s dead, at last. He’s been 
trying to fling hisself out o’ bed agin, an’ it took 
three men to hold him. In the struggle he just 
cullopsed and died. They wasn’t nobody but Dan 


NIGHT HAPPENINGS. 283 

could keep him down lately, and Dan’s gone some- 
’ers to-night.” 

She had scarcely finished when the lad, on a well- 
weighted wheel, sprinted into view. Dalton called 
him. 

“ This way, Dan,” and he flung himself off. 

“ What is it ? Murfree off again ? ” 

“ Yes,” walking beside the boy as he led his wheel 
on a detour around the group. “ Off forever, poor 
fellow ! They were trying to keep him on the bed 
when he 4 cullopsed,’ they tell me.” 

The word had impressed Dalton, and he could not 
refrain from using it himself, smiling over it in the 
darkness. But Dan did not notice. 

u I oughtn’t to have left him^ but I got so down- 
hearted I had to. Come around through my room, 
and we can get in without forcing this crowd. I 
want to put up my bike.” 

They were soon in the apartment which Murfree 
had occupied, just across from the cobbler’s. Dr. 
Browne stood over the bed, and had the two watch- 
ers guarding the door to keep out the frankly-curious 
people without. They thronged up to its lintels 
just as the surf presses against the dykes, that are 
the doors of the land, to guard it from that strange 
old sea which would learn all its secrets, only to 
obliterate them. The doctor looked up. “He is 
resting at last,” he said in brusque fashion, “ and a 
good thing for everybody. Did you ever see this 
mark on him, Dan ? Regular tatooing, isn’t it ? ” 
They both examined the bare shoulder, and, on 


284 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

its curve into the arm, observed the red and blue 
marking, plainly defined on the white skin. A circle 
formed of twisted snakes, head to head and with 
tails intertwined, enclosed a monogram, apparently, 
but the letters were not English in character, and so 
intermingled that none of the three could separate 
them. 

“I’ve seen that, or what’s just like it,” said Dan 
hurriedly. “ It’s stamped on some papers he give 
me to keep once, when he was himself for a few 
minutes. He said, if he died I might open ’em, and 
they’d secure justice. He didn’t say justice to who. 
Then he went off again, mumbling and muttering. 
I never could find out just what he wanted me to do 
with ’em.” 

“ We’ll look into that,” said Dalton, who had his 
own ideas concerning the dead man. “We can’t do 
any more here, doctor?” 

“ No. I’ll turn him over to these boys, now. 
They know what to do ; and I’ve got to go back to 
Jim Dodge’s to-night. His little girl’s down with 
measles — severe case.” 

Dalton busied himself for a* few moments with 
Murfree’s effects, then, beckoning Dan, they went 
back into the lad’s room at the rear. 

“ I wish you’d let me see those papers,” said 
Dalton, in his^authoritative voice, and soon the two 
were pouring over a small book, written full ; a 
document or two on parchment ; a badge, in which 
the letters and the twisted serpents were wrought 
out of gun-metal into a cheap-looking pin ; and sev- 


NIGHT HAPPENINGS. 285 

eral letters. Neither said much as they passed 
these from hand to hand, Dalton fully recognizing 
the right of his workman to know the full contents 
of what had been left in his care ; the other never 
questioning the manager’s interest and concern in 
all matters pertaining to his employees. As 
Dalton rose to go, he said : 

“ My boy, you fully understand the importance 
of keeping this to yourself, till we need it in evi- 
dence ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; I do.” 

“Well, I know you are to be trusted. Put them 
in some safe place, under lock and key, and wait till 
I give you the word. Good-night.” 

He went out the back way, though the crowd was 
mostly dispersed now, and, as he gained the street, 
glanced over toward the park. At its other end a 
light still gleamed in an upper window of the pretty 
house, and he hoped it was Joyce’s window, for he 
was in that romantic stage, never fully explained by 
the psychologists, where every inanimate thing be- 
comes interesting just in proportion to the nearness 
of its connection with one person — oftentimes a very 
ordinary young person to outsiders. 

It was decidedly out of his way, but he plunged 
into the park shadows, and hastened through it, 
then stood in the narrow street which separated its 
broad end from Joyce’s confines, and gazed up at 
the light. 

His devotion ought to have been rewarded — per- 
haps it was. 


286 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

Presently the glow fell off into a glimmer, but, as 
he was turning away, another sprang into brightness 
below. This he knew to be the library, and it gave 
him an idea which he was quick to act upon. He 
took a sprinter’s pace for home, and, as soon as he 
arrived there, made straight for the telephone, where 
he called up Miss Lavillotte. In a moment her 
gentle “ Hello ! ” came softly to his ears, and his 
face took on the look of a satisfied idiot, or possibly 
an inspired poet seeking for a rhyme ; the eyes up- 
turned and the mouth open. 

“Do you know who is talking?” he asked. 

“ Yes ; Mr. Dalton.” 

“You are right!” as if she had mastered an in- 
tricate problem. “And I would not have disturbed 
you, but I have great news for you.” 

“Indeed?” 

“ Yes. Murfree died an hour or two ago, and has 
left papers that tell the whole story, and exonerate 
Lozcoski.” 

“ How glad I am ! ” 

“I knew you would be. There are other things, 
too. When can I see you?” 

“ Let me see. I have news, too. Lucy has 
broken down at last, and begged me, all tears and 
softness, to take her to see poor Nate. We are go- 
ing in the morning at 8.15. But that would be too 
early for you ? ” 

“ Not at all. And you and Lucy can’t go alone 
to the jail. If you will allow me ” 

“ How if I command you ? ” merrily. 


NIGHT HAPPENINGS. 


287 


“ Then I can do nothing but obey.” 

“Well, then, I do. We’ll take the same train, 
won’t we — that 8.15?” 

“ Yes, of course.” 

“ Good-night, then.” 

“ Good-night — till morning.” 

He distinguished a funny little sound, like a sup- 
pressed giggle, and in a clear, final tone came a last 
“ Good-night, my friend ! ” 

Then he heard her receiver click in its socket, and 
the decided tinkle of the bell shut him off. But he 
did not care. He was still her “ friend.” He would 
be with her all to-morrow. His interests and hers 
were identical, and nobody should interfere without 
a struggle on his part. 

Not that he meant anything overt, or aggressive. 
Only he would make himself so necessary she could 
not do without him. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


VISITING THE SHUT-INS. 

POOR Nate fretted in confinement, but not for 
his own sake. He simply ignored his surroundings, 
not deigning to complain, or scarcely to notice ; but 
sought every opportunity to ask eagerly after the 
welfare of Lucy and her little family. He over- 
whelmed Mr. Barrington with questions, soipewhat 
to the bewilderment of the old gentleman, who 
could not distinctly grasp the idea that Nate was 
self-constituted protector in place of the man he 
was accused of murdering. 

He flung his eager queries at Mr. Dalton, and 
more gently pelted Joyce; and the one or two 
“ boys,” who had been admitted to his cell, departed 
with the dazed consciousness that, instead of find- 
ing out “all about it ” from Nate, as had been their 
intention, he had kept them busy telling insignifi- 
cant home events, until they were pumped dry of 
every drop of knowledge they possessed. 

But when the door opened that gray morning, 
and a little figure swathed in black came slowly in, 
Nate scarcely moved. He sat still on his bunk, 
staring at her till she threw back the long veil, and 
said reproachfully, 

“ Nate ! ” 

288 


VISITING THE SHUT-INS. 


289 

“ Is it really you, Lucy ? ” he asked, slowly rising 
and making a step forward. “ I never see you like 
this. I most thought ’twas your ghost. Set down, 

child. ’Tain’t much of a place, but ” He drew 

out the one chair they allowed him in the narrow 
cell, and, as he placed it, Lucy caught his rough 
hand between her own. 

“ Nate, aren’t you glad to see me ?” she cried, 
fresh tears springing to her already overtaxed eyes. 

He looked down at her, nodded gravely, and then 
laughed a little. . 

“ Why, in course I’m glad, Lucy ! You know 
that without tellin’, don’t ye ? I ain’t much on 
talkin’, Lucy, but you know me.” 

Lucy stayed as long as they would let her, while 
Joyce and George sat on a stone bench in the cor- 
ridor. The visit seemed short to them, but the 
turnkey was impatient long before the half-hour 
was up, feeling himself de trop all around. After 
the strangeness wore off, something of the old natu- 
ral friendliness came back into Nate’s manner, and 
Lucy’s tears ceased to flow, as her tongue wagged 
ever more cheerfully. 

They talked entirely about the little home- 
doings — Tilly’s streak of facility in washing dishes 
without breakage ; Rufie’s month’s record in school ; 
the big baby’s latest attempt at the English vocab- 
ulary ; and the little baby’s first tooth. Lucy told, 
too, of Joyce’s kindness and constant oversight, and 
of Dalton’s promise that her father’s pay should 
not be stopped this quarter at least. Scarcely a 
19 


290 


JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

word of the tragedy between them, or of the trial 
before Nate. 

Just as she was leaving, however, she said tim- 
idly, “ Shall I come in to it, Nate — the trial, you 
know ? ” 

“ Guess likely you’ll have to, my girl. You’ll be 
a witness, you see.” 

“ Oh, will I, Nate? And for you? I’ll try to 
help you all I can ! ” 

“ Well, no ! I guess it’s t’other side ’ll call you, 
Lucy. But don’t you mind. Just tell the truth 
and shame the devil ! Them lawyers is a tricky 
pack, and they know how to mix a fellow up, till 
he don’t know crystal from‘ frit. But don’t you 
worrit ! The truth’s stronger’n the whole pack of 
’em, and that’s what I’m a-restin’ on. You tell the 
truth as you b’lieve it, whether it’s for me or agin’ 
me, child, and it’s all I’ll ask o’ you.” 

“ Nate, I saw you didn’t try to hit pa when you 
had the stick and was right over him, but you’ll 
own up you was awful mad ? ” 

“Yes, I was: and for the first minute I was mur- 
derin’ mad, ’count o’ you. I’ll own that. But, you 
seen when I got it under me and was leadin’ him 
off peaceable, didn’t you ? I slipp’d back’ard and 
flung up my arms, and then the thing struck wrong. 
You couldn’t think I meant that blow, Lucy ? ” 

“ No, I know you didn’t. I see it all, now. I 
was so scared then I couldn’t think, but ” 

“ Time’s up, miss,” said the officer resolutely, and 
Lucy hurried out, scarcely waiting to shake hands, 


VISITING THE SHUT-INS. 


291 

while the others merely gave Nate a smile and 
word through the barred door. 

They knew from his face it was all he needed to- 
day. 

When Leon heard about the Pole who had ship- 
ped for a short time on the “Terror,” he listened to 
the talk of him with interest, and asked permission 
to accompany Joyce and her manager at their next 
interview. By the time the four (for Camille was 
of the party, too) made their call at the jail, the faces 
of the two more frequent visitors were pretty well 
known there. Lozcoski, now well fed, and filled 
with hope and comfort, through the communica- 
tions of the interpreter, was not the same man who 
had burst his way into the Social-house a few weeks 
ago. His staring eyes had softened, his hollow 
cheeks rounded out, his prison-cut hair could not 
mat now, and through his clean-shaven lips white 
teeth gleamed smilingly at times. The wolf had 
vanished, and the man was now installed in the body 
that needed only refinement and thought to make 
it comely. 

The minute Leon entered, alone, leaving the rest 
outside,' he rose quickly and gave the naval salute — 
the inside of the hand to the temple held palm for- 
ward — of a U. S. man-of-war’s-man to his superior 
officer. He had recognized the young lieutenant at 
once. This pleased Leon Bonnivel, and he entered 
into brisk conversation with him, through the inter- 
preter, soon becoming convinced that the man told 


292 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

the truth about his service and its ending. Thus 
the chain of evidence which was to free an honest, 
but unfortunate man, grew link by link, and Joyce 
formed the clasp which held all together. 

She was allowed to enter after awhile, and the 
Pole’s face lighted almost into rapture at sight of 
her. He knew what she had done for him, and he 
felt that no ikon of his hut in the old country had 
ever seemed more beautiful, or more worthy of his 
honor. He would have knelt to her readily enough, 
but that his few months in America had taught him 
that such demonstrations were not admissible on 
democratic soil. So he merely stood in awkward 
adoration, and beamed upon her. 

She spoke a few kind words, telling him his dis- 
charge papers would soon be ready and that he was 
then to report for work in Littleton, if he so desired, 
and was turning away when, after a quickly-spoken 
sentence by Lozcoski, the interpreter said explana- 
torily, 

“ He bids me thank you, lady, and give you the 
blessing of a man at peace with his God. And he 
asks, where is your young husband that he may 
thank him, also.” 

“My husband!” stammered Joyce, while Leon 
turned sharply to gaze at her flushing cheeks. 
“ Wh — what does he mean ? I have no husband.” 

The interpreter, trying to control his smiles, ex- 
plained, and the Pole, after a disconcerted expres- 
sion had crossed his face, smiled blandly also and, 
spreading out both hands, spoke again. 


VISITING THE SHUT-INS. 


293 


“ He begs the lady’s pardon,” said the interpreter. 
“ It was her betrothed that he meant. The young 
man who is boss at the Works. He thought you 
were married, rather than betrothed, ma’am. But 
he is glad to ask blessings on your future union.” 

What could Joyce say ? To keep on explaining 
and protesting would be ridiculous, and it suddenly 
flashed across her mind that the mistake was natu- 
ral. As this Lozcoski had seen them together in 
close companionship, and intimate counsel, he had a 
right to believe what he did. Such personal busi- 
ness relations, without marriage or betrothal, nearly 
as sacred and irrevocable, would be an impossibility 
between two of their age and social standing in his 
own country. 

So she simply bowed her head, accepted the mur- 
mured blessings of the grateful prisoner, and hurried 
out, leaving the animated lexicon she had hired — 
all one broad smile of intelligence now — to interpret 
her actions as best he could. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


A DREAM ENDED. 

JOYCE could only hope nothing had been heard in 
the corridor, but her first surreptitious glance was 
not consolatory. Camille, with an expression oddly 
commingled of mirth and petulance, was intensely 
busy with her glove-fastening, while the broad back 
of George Dalton, who was apparently as busy gaz- 
ing from a barred window against a stone wall, had 
a most uncanny look of intelligence about it. As 
for the sheriff — he did not try to conceal the grin 
with which he looked at that back, and then at 
Joyce, who would have given a large slice of her 
fortune for a sheltering veil to cover her face, just 
then. As the party marched out into the open air 
there was an appearance of constraint about them. 
Camille kept persistently at her brother’s side, and 
Joyce was forced to follow with George. He tried 
so hard to look non-committal that he only succeeded 
in looking thoroughly cross, and Leon was shut 
within himself, evidently dazed, but trying to think 
the thing out. 

The tension did not loosen as they made their 
way to the great depot, just in time to board the 
earlier of the “ dinner trains,” at 5.13. But, as they 
294 


A DREAM ENDED. 


295 


passed in, Joyce circumvented any further such 
pairing off by calmly seating herself by Camille, and 
leaving the young men to adjust themselves as they 
would. 

Few realize the many disagreeable trifles that 
accompany the movements of any notable person- 
age. Joyce was often pointed out as the great 
heiress, who had eschewed city society to manage 
her business affairs in person, and Leon’s air, even 
in civilian dress, was observable. Many eyes were 
turned upon the little party, who were presently 
seated near together in the train, and Joyce broke 
the spell of rigidity by leaning over to Leon and 
remarking, sotto voce , 

“ If you had only worn your uniform everybody 
would have stared. Now I think there are as many 
as three who have not noticed us. Is there no way 
of stirring up those three ? ” 

His ready laughter answered her sally, and the 
strain was relieved. 

But when they reached the home station Dalton 
proved that he was not lacking in tact, at least. 
Carelessly assuming that Joyce was thoroughly well 
escorted, he bade the trio a cheerful good-night on 
the platform, and struck off for his own home, with- 
out even a backward glance. 

Leon nodded approvingly, all to himself. 

“ The fellow has self-control, anyhow,” he thought, 
as he offered an arm to Joyce and laughingly bade 
Camille follow in their wake, like a good child — for 
the walks were narrow. 


296 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

Arrived at the knoll, Joyce would not accept their 
invitation in to dinner, declaring she dare not so 
disappoint her own cook, who would be awaiting 
her. Neither would the brother and sister accept 
of her counter-invitation, saying that they had more 
than a cook to disappoint ; namely, their mother. 
So they went their separate ways, but lights streamed 
across from window to window, like cables of trust 
and friendship. 

It had not been an easy thing for Leon to see his 
mother alone in a household which made her its 
center and circumference, but that evening, when 
she retired to her room, he followed close upon her 
steps. 

“ Mayn’t I come in, mother ? ” he asked, after 
tapping lightly. “ I want an old-fashioned good- 
night talk.” 

She welcomed him eagerly. 

“ Find the best chair, dear, and draw it up by me, 
here. I do so enjoy this little grate on cool nights ! 
I can feel the warmth, and imagine the light, while 
it all fills me with comfort and peace.” 

“ In a minute, mother. Let me tramp about a 
little, first. I like to try my sea-legs on a stretch 
of thick carpet, occasionally. Besides, I want to 
look around. How snug and handsome you are 
here ! That toilet-table is really sumptuous, and 
these fine etchings show off well against that soft 
flesh tint on the walls. Mother, you have found a 
good son in Larry ! ” 

“ A dear, good son, Leon. But his means are not 


A DREAM ENDED. 


297 


so large as his heart. This room is mostly Joyce’s 
gift, you know. When she gave the house she in* 
sisted on personally superintending the fittings of 
this room. I told her it was useless to waste beauty 
on me, but she said no surroundings could quite 
suit me, except a certain kind, and she claimed to 
understand that style better than any one else. She 
is doing for us all the time.” 

“She could not be other than generous — but 
how she has changed, mother ! ” 

“ Changed ! Do you think so ? ” 

“ How could I help thinking so ? I left her a 
shrinking, clinging child. I find her a self-poised, 
queenly woman. Do you remember how I used to 
plan to protect and defend her ? I was to earn 
money for her and you, and to ward off all trouble 
from you both. It was my youthful inspiration. I 
return to find she needs neither money, position, 
protection, nor devotion. She has all, and more, 
than she desires. A defender would be an absurd- 
ity ! All she can require now is a — manager.” 

His mother turned about in her chair with a dis- 
tressed look. 

“ Leon, your tone is not bitter, but your words 

yy 

are. 

“ No, indeed ! I am merely stating facts. To be 
bitter would be foolish. But I see it all, mother.” 

“ Oh, Leon, it breaks my heart !” 

“ I feared it would, and that is why I want to talk 
with you.” He came closer and drew up a chair. 
She caught his hand and held it in a close clasp. 


298 JOYCE'S INVESTMENT. 

“ The strange thing is, it does not break my heart 
at all.” 

He brought out each word with deliberate em- 
phasis. Madame Bonnivel felt her blindness then 
as never in her life before. Oh, to be able to search 
his eyes, to look down into his very soul! Would 
he deliberately deceive his mother, to save her pain? 
Yet the touch of his hand was cool and calm. 

“I thought you loved my Joyce!” she cried 
sharply, her nerves at a tension. 

“I do. I always have. I always shall. And I 
admire her in addition, now. She is a noble, re- 
markable girl. But she is a duchess, a queen, and 
she is as absorbed in her little kingdom as any Ger- 
man countess in her petty domain. Its ways and 
doings are of supreme importance to her, and other 
things do not count. It is right enough she should 
feel so, and she will lead a useful life. But how 
could it ever accord with mine? She is Lady 
Bountiful, and rules through love and wisdom. I 
am officer on a man-of-war, and command with stern- 
ness and inflexibility, never bending to coaxing or 
cajolery. Her ambition is to serve and uplift ; mine 
to hold down with a steady hand, that my men may 
do my bidding like intelligent machines. We both 
may do good in our spheres, but we would inevitably 
pull apart, if we tried to unite them. Could I take 
the place of prime minister to my lady, and content 
myself with carrying out her orders, and expending 
her money? I would die first!” He sprang up 
and began walking about again, his voice deepening 


A DREAM ENDED. 


299 


as he progressed with his subject. “Imagine me 
examining her books at the works, or pottering about 
on errands of mercy among her glass-blowers ! I, 
who can daily tread the magnificent decks of the 
Terror,’ and lead my squad on engineering feats that 
stir every drop of blood in my body to pride over our 
glorious achievements ! Dearest mother, it wouldn’t 
do.” 

“ But, if she loves you, she would give this all 
up ” 

“ And go with me ? She couldn’t, mother. You 
know that. There is no place for women on a war- 
ship.” 

“ No, but you have furloughs occasionally. She 
might live here, just the same ” 

“With Dalton for her manager? No, thank you, 
mother! I am not such an idiot as that.” 

“ But Leon ! Leon ! It has been my dream for 
years.” 

“And, like most dreams, is but a dissolving 
view. Let us hope this dream may dissolve into a 
scene of deeper reality, which shall far exceed the 
vision. You are safely anchored here beside her, 
and in all love and fealty she is, and will be, your 
daughter. I shall always feel safe and happy to 
know she is beside you. But the currents of my life 
run in broader channels. The tide floats me far out 
into stirring, trying scenes. I should mope myself to 
death here. I should hate and despise my inaction ! ” 

“Leon, how your voice thrills! You love your 
work ? ” 


300 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

“ I never knew how much till now. I tell you, 
* 

frankly, I returned expecting to marry Joyce, if she 
would have me. I am glad to understand that she 
most assuredly would not. I cannot tell you how 
suffocatingly small seems the life of a private citizen 
of small means on shore. My pay is little enough, 
we know, and I can never expect anything beyond 
a fair living. But what is that to me ? I am backed 
by a government that gives me assurance, standing, 
power, wherever I may be. I have for friends and 
associates the brave and honorable, the world over. 
I am as proud of my ship as other men of beautiful 
estates, and as fond of my brave men as others of 
their children. I do love Joyce, even as I willingly 
relinquish her, but I know even she could not make 
up to me for all I would give up in marrying her, 
and resigning my commission. I see it as plainly as 
if inspired. Our ways must lie apart !'” 

“ Leon, I see arguments are useless, and I will not 
plead for Joyce, even with my own son.” 

“ The pleading would have to be on the other 
side, dearest. Remember, she does not love me.” 

“ She did, and she would, but for this fortune and 
this work! Her father always came between us in 
life; his accursed money must separate us now — go, 
Leon ! My soul is bitter within me. I shall be un- 
just and wicked, if I say one word more.” 

He went slowly, reluctantly, looking back at her 
pale, drawn face in an anguish of pity. He knew 
that, brave as he had been, he had not made her 
wound the less. The dream of her life was ended. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


A RAILROAD WEDDING. 

There was a sudden outbreak of wild enthusiasm 
as the verdict was given, quickly checked by the 
court’s gavel, then all craned their necks while in a 
few kind words, the judge congratulated and dis- 
missed the prisoner. Then counsel and friends gath- 
ered about Nate' with outstretched hands, till his arm 
ached with the constant pumping, and his tongue 
was tied with the excitement and confusion. To 
steady himself he kept his eyes mostly on a little 
black figure, some distance away. It was close by 
the side of Miss Lavillotte, but its face never turned 
from watching him ; and he knew that, from the 
hour the young girl had stood bravely in court and 
exonerated him from all blame, she had put the sad 
past behind her and accepted a brighter, happier 
future. He was only longing, now, to reach her 
side, but even with Dalton’s efforts it was almost 
impossible to make their way through the press. 
Somehow, Nate’s friends seemed to spring up from 
everywhere, to-day. Each official, from jailer to 
judge, had learned to like him, the newspaper men 
were his staunch allies, and the jurors had a fellow- 
feeling for him. 


3oi 


302 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

He had clung to the clean, unvarnished truth in 
dogged fashion, and had so impressed all by his 
simple story, in which he seemed only trying to tell 
facts, no matter how they bore upon himself, that 
even the prosecutor was out of conceit with his side 
of the case, 

So the gratulatory crowd gathered thickly about 
him, and the little group of home-friends had to 
wait long before he could reach them, near the pri- 
vate door by the clerk’s desk. 

Lucy, trembling all over, caught his hand as soon 
as she could reach it, and fairly pulled him from the 
court-room. “ Let’s get out of this ! ” she whispered 
excitedly. “ I can’t breathe here. Oh, Nate, to 
think you are safe and it’s all over. Thank God ! 
Thank God ! ” 

“Come,” said Dalton to Joyce, who stood hesi- 
tantly, not sure there was no more to attend to, 
“the carriage is below and we’ve just time to make 
our train. We can say all our says in there.” 

He took Joyce’s arm with an odd mixture of 
tenderness, deference, and authority, while the 
others followed their rapid pace. Once inside the 
closed vehicle, Nate seemed less excited than any 
of them, speaking in the same slow, even tones he 
always used. When Lucy, clinging to his hand, 
would break out, “ Oh, isn’t it good — isn’t it too 
good, Nate ? ” he would only smile and look down 
at her with a tender 

“ Why, yes, Lucy, it’s good, but not too good, as 
I see. It’s right, that’s all. I didn’t need shutting 


A RAILROAD WEDDING. 


303 


up, and I’m glad I didn’t get sentenced that way. 
’Twould ’a’ come tough on you and the youngsters.” 

“ I expect there’ll be something of a demonstra- 
tion, Nate,” said the manager. “ I had West ’phone 
the verdict to Littleton, and tell the boys to lay off 
the rest of the day. They’ll be crazy, I presume ! 
I know you don’t care for such things, but you’ll 
have to put up with being a hero just this once.” 

“ Hope they won’t do nothin’ rash ’round them 
railroad tracks,” said Nate, a bit anxiously. “ The 
boys sometimes forgits theirselves when they gets 
to celebratin’. -They don’t mean nothin’, but 
they forgits. Who’d you leave the babbies with, 
Lucy? ” 

“ They’re all going to be in school till three, for 
the teacher said Rufie might bring even the little 
baby to the kindergarten. Then Marry’s out of the 
office, and she’ll keep ’em till we get there at half- 
past four. She won’t let nothing happen.” 

“ Well, I’d ’a’ been satisfied just to go home and 
set down and eat my supper, but never mind,” 
sighed Nate in wistful fashion. “ Folks is cur’ous 
about such things. Just because a man don’t git 
sent up for what he didn’t do can’t make a hero 
outen him, as I see. But it’s nice of you all to care.” 
He looked at Joyce, sitting opposite with Dalton, 
he and Lucy having been given the back seat to- 
gether, and a smile played about his lips and eyes, 
crinkling the kindly muscles into radiating lines of 
sunshine. “ I’ve had lots o’ thoughts, Miss Lav’- 
lotte, since I’ve been shut up, and I guess I’ve 


304 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

worked out something. It’s a master place for 
workin’ out things in your mind — a jail is.” 

“Is it, Nate? And what have you worked out, 
now ? ” 

“ Well, just this. First, it did seem queer that a 
handsome young lady just livin’ on in our town, 
and no blood relation to nobody, should take such 
an int’rust in Lucy and me, to say nothin’ of other 
folks. Ev’ry time ’t you’d come, or s£nd other folks 
to me, I kept askin’ inside o’ me, 1 Now, what does 
that mean ? What is it to her, anyhow ? ’ Then, 
kinder sudden like, it come to me once that ev’ry 
single -one o’ the good things what’s been the makin’ 
o’ Littleton begun to come along just about when 
you fetched up there. And when I’d figured on that 
a while, and remembered how you and the boss 
here was allays consultin’ together, and how you 
seemed to feel jest ’s if you’d got stock in us, some- 
how, it come to me all of a heap.” 

“ What came to you ?” asked Joyce, her brilliant 
eyes flashing a laughing glance towards her seat- 
mate. 

“ Why, that they mightn’t be any young Early 
after all, and that ’twas jest possible — mind, I don’t 
say as I’ve got all the twists and turns of it — but 
that you might, somehow or other, stand fer him. 
Y ou couldn’t be him, bein’ a girl, of course, but stand 
fer him. Don’t they have proxers, or sponsors, or 
some such things in law, Mr. Dalton ? ” 

That gentleman laughed heartily, and Joyce 
joined in with a merry peal. Even Lucy and Nate 


A RAILROAD WEDDING. 


305 

helped the chorus, though somewhat perfunctorily, 
not knowing just what they were laughing at. 

“ How is it, Miss Lavillotte, are you standing 
sponsor for any one?” queried Dalton, as soon as 
he could get his voice. 

“ I hope not ! ** she laughed in return. 

“ Well,” put in Nate, looking from one to the 
other, “ it seems funny to you, I see ; but if I ain’t 
much mistooken I’ve heered the boss, here, talk 
about young Early more’n once. So they must be 
something to it, of course.” 

“ There ! ” said Joyce. “ You are convicted, Mr. 
Dalton. Can you set yourself right ? ” 

“ I can, if I may.” 

“ Well, do by all means, then.” 

“ Well, Nate, I began by first being deceived my- 
self ; then, being fairly launched in deception, I went 
on cheating others. There never was a young 
Early ! No man is living by that name, that we 
know.” 

Nate looked dazed, and Lucy craned forward 
anxiously. “ Who does own the Works, then ? ” she 
cried. “ Can’t we go on living in our pretty houses, 
and having the nice new ways? Who built the 
school, and the church, and the Social-house ? ” 

“ Do you like the new, so much better than the 
old, way, Lucy ? You have had great sorrows since 
these changes, child.” 

Joyce leaned forward to the girl, kindly. 

“ I know, but if it had come before ! How dread- 
ful hungry and wretched we’d have been ! And how 
20 


306 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

would it have gone with Nate? Do you s’pose 
they’d ever ’a’ cleared him, if they hadn’t knowed he 
had rich friends ? Oh, I can’t bear to think of it be- 
fore ! It’s like the diff’runce between being out in the 
cold and wet, with nobody to care, and being inside 
by the fire, with ev’rybody good-natured. It’s easier 
with the work, and with the children, and with 
ev’rybody. There’s lots of times, now, when I 
couldn’t help singin’, only I’m ashamed to. And 
’tisn’t me only, but Marry, and Rache, and the 
youngsters, and all. It’s like summer, come to 
stay.” 

“Dear Lucy!” said Joyce. “You put it very 
pleasantly, I’m sure. But here we are at the sta- 
tion — explanations later ! ” and the bustle of mak- 
ing a train just about to start drew their attention 
elsewhere. 

Once within it, they could not find seats together, 
and perhaps neither couple was disturbed because 
thus separated. George Dalton bent towards Joyce, 
and said : 

“ So you are going to give it all away ? ” 

“ No, George, I expect you to do that. Just tell 
them plainly and simply who I am, and what are our 
plans for the future. It is better not to keep it 
longer when the — it — is so near.” 

“ How you shy at the word, Joyce! There are 
two or three with the same meaning to select from, 
you know — wedding, nup ” 

“ Sh-h ! George. Some one will hear you.” 

“ And suppose they do. Are you ashamed of it ? 


A RAILROAD WEDDING. 


307 


lam not. I can’t even hear one of those words 
without a thrill of happiness. And it isn’t all for 
ourselves, either, dearest. There is a great work 
before us, and many are interested. To spend our 
lives together, doing for those who have been my 
friends ever since I was a poor, hard-working, lonely 
little fellow— Ah ! Joyce, it is a pleasant outlook ! ” 

He turned to the window with softened eyes, and 
Joyce, through some strange entangling of the 
thought threads, suddenly remembered her last in- 
terview with Leon before he returned to the “Ter- 
ror,” nearly'a month ago. His ardent, dominant 
nature had struck her as never before, while he 
talked glowingly of his life, his work, his ambitions. 
“ He will make a magnificent man ! ” she had 
thought then. “ Brave, resolute, a born ruler of 
men. But there is one idea he has not caught, by 
which my life is now controlled — that the one who 
really ministers must have something of the servant 
in his make-up. We ‘ stoop to conquer ’ in humani- 
tarianism, as well as in other love. And Leon could 
not stoop. We are both masterful in a way, but 
his mastery would overpower mine, and crush it 
out. I could not be free to live as I have chosen, 
if he had any control over me, and yet, strangely 
enough, I once believed I owed all my ideas of help- 
fulness to him. I know, now, it was the dear 
mother who informed my mind, while Leon con- 
trolled my fancy.” 

She was lost in her musings as the train shrieked 
out its on-coming call to the little one-room station- 


3 o8 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

house, at Littleton. From the window they could 
see that the whole town seemed to be gathered 
about its doors. The platform, tracks, and surround- 
ing buildings were black with people. As the 
brakes were put on, lessening their speed and the 
roar of the train, cheer after cheer reached them 
from without. The air was full of waving caps, 
handkerchiefs, and aprons. Now they could begin 
to distinguish separate groups and faces. Mrs. 
Hemphill, in the midst of her little brood, shook 
the gingham skirts of the baby in her arms, and old 
Mother Flaherty waggled her wide Irish border 
and waved her- cane, in utter abandon. Dan and 
Rachel, standing together, looked fairly radiant ; 
even Marie was there on her tricycle, with Babette 
and Gus keeping guard over her, while Lucy’s chil- 
dren, crowding near, were shouting themselves 
hoarse. Every one was on hand. Close by, the 
cobbler, having somewhere picked up a shoe to 
mend, waved it frantically by its leather string. 
Joyce’s own carriage, with Gilbert proudly control- 
ling the restive horses, was drawn up beside the 
platform, and on its seat, reckless of danger, stood 
Camille waving the dust-cloth in utter forgetfulness 
* of what she had in her hand. In close proximity 
stood Dorette, and by Dr. Browne’s side, in his 
shambling old buggy, sat Madame Bonnivel, direct- 
ing the demonstrations of Dodo, on her lap. Nate 
looked at Lucy an instant. 

“ Say, child,” he said in a hesitant tone, “ it’s a 
shame to think I’m nobody but just Nate, when 


A RAILROAD WEDDING. 


309 


they’ve made such a fuss ! Be we goin’ to git mar- 
ried, or ain’t we ? I s’pose we ought to, if I’m goin’ 
to look after you and the babbies, and it seems as if 
’twould sorter pay ’em for their trouble if we’d let 
’em know it, or something. Folks allays likes to 
hear about weddin’s. Say, why don’t we just go 
along and git married right now ? Might as well, 
and then they’d sure be satisfied. I see the preacher 
a-standin’ there, dost to thet ole maid of Miss 
Lav’lotte’s, and if you say so — ” 

“ But, Nate, I ain’t dressed up ! That is, not 
bridy, you know.” 

He looked down at her — such a mite in her black 
swathings ! — and smiled. 

“You ain’t nothin’ but a child, Lucy, and I’ll 
have to be husband and father, both. But I’ll look 
after you close, dear, and be good to the babbies. 
Come, I guess we’d better. Your clo’es is all 
right.” 

Waves of cheers greeted Nate as he stepped out- 
side, with Lucy in tow. The crowd surged forward 
toward the platform, but he waved them back. 

“ Hello, boys ! ” he cried, raising his voice. 
“This is nice of you, but jest hold up a minute, 
please. We’re goin’ to have a weddin’ — Lucy and 
me — ’fore we all go home. Come, Lucy ! ” 

He caught her hand in a firmer grip, and strug- 
gled toward the minister, his countenance strong 
in its intensity of purpose. Lucy’s blossom face, 
that had been growing rounder and rosier every 
day, shone out like a vision of hope against the 


310 JOYCE’S INVESTMENT. 

long black veil, which streamed behind her like a 
background of cloud floating away into the past 
The crowd, eagerly watching, was silent with aston- 
ishment, and the young divinity student, taken 
thus unaware, looked really pale under his excite- 
ment. But he was a man of strong calibre and 
spirituality, with quickened sympathies, and that 
insight into human nature which some people name 
magnetism. He knew Lucy’s story and Nate’s. He 
felt this marriage was, under all the circumstances, 
right and best. Baring his head reverently, he 
stepped forward and raised his right hand. A 
solemn hush fell upon all. After a short invocation, 
which steadied his own nerves, and attuned all to 
the solemnity of the occasion, he put the moment- 
ous questions in his most impressive manner, and 
Nate and Lucy made their vows, the whole popula- 
tion of Littleton serving as witnesses. The instant 
the blessing was pronounced upon the wedded pair, 
Nate spoke up in a firm, loud voice — 

“ Now, friends, let’s all go home and git our sup- 
pers. If you’re so tired as I be you’ll need ’em. 
Come, Lucy, the babbies are fretting, and there’s 
Tilly tryin’ to git to us. Come on ! ” 

The crowd, laughing and crying, parted to let 
them through, Joyce and George, still quite dazed, 
staring with the rest. Camille’s voice aroused 
them. 

“ Did you ever see anything so matter-of-fact ! 
How he did take the wind out of our sails ! Well, 
let’s go home, as he says. Dr. Browne has run off 


A RAILROAD WEDDING. 


3ii 

with mother, but she wants you both — George and 
Joyce ; — to come home with me to dinner.” 

“Wait!” cried Joyce, suddenly finding her 
tongue. She beckoned to Dalton, spoke a hurried 
word or two, and in a trice Nate, Lucy, and the 
Hapgood children, down to the little baby, were 
packed into the carriage, and Gilbert bidden to 
drive them home for the wedding journey. 

Then she waved them adieu, and turned to her 
friend and betrothed — 

“ Come, Camille ; come, George, we three can 
walk ! ” 


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